


The Alpha Letters

by swanqueenfic13



Series: The Alpha [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Harry Potter Next Generation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-26
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-04-23 13:24:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 52
Words: 132,800
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4878538
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/swanqueenfic13/pseuds/swanqueenfic13
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This was Rose's sixth year, and it was supposed to be a good year. Her boyfriend is the one and only Harvey Smith, seventh-year Slytherin Quidditch star and heartthrob. She and her best friends had just managed to become Animagi. She was starting her N.E.W.T. courses. It was going to be great.</p><p>Then she started getting the letters, and it all came crashing down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. A Prologue of Sorts

**Author's Note:**

> So, I started this on harrypotterfanfiction.com, but then I made this account, and I can update faster here. I will be finishing it on the above website, but I also want to post it here. I'm in desperate need of reviews and feedback! Let me know what you like, dislike, love, hate, disagree with, etc. etc. etc!

1: A Prologue of Sorts

  
  


I skipped down the train’s hallway, feeling euphoric but a little sad; it was liberating to be free of my parents and to be going away, but I had never been away from home for a long period of time before. Most of the train’s compartments were filled, and many of the occupants were unashamedly opening their doors to gawk at me and my cousin. Some were even so bold as to stand out in the hall, watching our retreating backs. It wasn’t until we reached the second-to-last car that we found room for us. Upon seeing the only occupant, I almost ran back the way I came, to beg someone to move so we could sit.

Scorpius Malfoy was sitting alone in the compartment.

I stopped short, and Al ran into my back. When he saw why I stopped, he hesitated for only a moment.

“My dad is a very firm believer in second chances. I once heard him tell Mum that Draco Malfoy was not his father. I’m sure he’d say the same about Scorpius and his father,” he whispered. Immediately, I felt guilty. Of course I shouldn’t have judged Scorpius by his name! In doing that, I was no better than the train gawkers, judging us (albeit in a more positive manner than I was treating Scorpius), for our parents’ names and reputations.

“I know, I was just thinking about my dad’s comments on the platform,” I hissed back. I could feel my skin flush a very ugly pink. I squared my shoulders and yanked open the door. Scorpius’ head jerked up. “Hello,” I told him, giving him a small smile. He nodded in recognition, then buried his head in a book. I smiled when I saw that it was the very same book I had stuffed in my bag. Al and I sat on the bench facing him. Always a solitary, pensive figure, Al retreated into himself, curling into a ball. I took the seat directly across from Scorpius, pulling out my own book. He nodded and smiled when he noticed we were reading the same book.

And this is how we stayed for the rest of the trip: Al brooding, while Scorpius and I read, occasionally having conversations about particular events happening in the books. It was a quiet ride, but we were all content in our silence.

 

At long last, the train pulled into Hogsmeade station. Almost as soon as we stepped out into the cool evening air, Scorpius underwent a metamorphosis. At King’s Cross, he exuded confidence almost to the point of arrogance. Once on the train, he showed a quiet dignity; he was comfortable, but less ‘in-your-face’ about his confidence. But now, it was as if I was looking at a completely different person. He ducked his head, staring determinedly at his feet, his chin practically tucked into his school robes.

He walked between Albus and me, and we made our way to the boats together. I hoped they couldn’t feel me shaking. If asked, I would blame the cold weather, but I didn’t really think that was the only reason I shook. This is it, I thought, the beginning. I hardly even processed the boat ride; I remember ooh-ing and ahh-ing with everyone else as we rounded the bend and saw the castle. But in all honesty, the entire ride was a blur, as was the walk into the castle.

I know we shuffled across the grounds and into the Entrance Hall. I know this is where Hagrid left us with Professor Swan, a tall, intimidating man with a bushy gray beard and even bushier eyebrows. I know Professor Swan then moved us into alphabetical order and prepared us for the Sorting. I know I was one of the last people in line. But, even though I knew all of this, it was like I wasn’t even there. Albus and I had switched roles: he tried endlessly to talk to me before we were separated, giving last minute assurances that we would be fine, but I withdrew inward, practically catatonic. It wasn’t until Professor Swan started calling names that I really started paying attention.

I noticed the Great Hall was silent. Everyone was watching as the first person walked up to the hat. So entrenched in my own fear, I hadn’t heard his name. He was a small boy, no taller than I was with sandy brown hair. When the hat went on his head, it practically sank down to his chin. It only seemed to consider for a moment before opening it wide brim and shouting-

“HUFFLEPUFF”

I didn’t pay much attention to the names, or where students were headed. My head snapped to attention as I heard “Malfoy, Scorpius,” get called. The Hall fell silent. All of the chatter from the Gryffindor table from a moment ago as they welcomed “Latimar, Amanda” ceased. All heads pivoted as one to watch poor little pale, shaking, Scorpius climb up onto the stool. His legs didn’t even touch the ground. He clenched his fist as the hat was lowered onto his head.

It was silent for a few minutes, the longest stall so far. Scorpius seemed to be having a conversation- actually argument probably seemed to be a better word judging by the angry lines of Scorpius’ jaw- with the hat. After another few moments, the brim opened wide and shouted-

“RAVENCLAW”

Everyone was stunned. I saw a few jaws literally drop. Clearly, anyone who knew anything about magic, the Second Wizarding War, or the Malfoy family expected Scorpius to be sorted into Slytherin. As the hat was pulled off his head, I saw Scorpius allow himself a small smile, triumphant, I supposed. A few people at the Ravenclaw table half-heartedly clapped as Scorpius joined them. It did not take long for people to quiet down to allow “Mott, Lucille” to be sorted. Later, when “Potter, Albus” was called, I found myself craning to get a look at my cousin.

He swaggered up to the hat, and to anyone else, he would seem perfectly calm. Because I knew him well, I could see the way his eyebrows knitted together ever so slightly. He was still nervous, despite his father’s reassurance at the train station and mine on the train. As the hat covered the top half of his face, I saw him stretch his hands out onto his lap, forcing the picture of calm. But he pressed the heels of his hands into his thighs. The hat didn’t converse quite as long for him before it opened its brim and-

“GRYFFINDOR”

The Great Hall exploded with cheers and claps. Albus took off the hat, smiling broadly and wedged himself between his brother and our other cousin Dominique. James was in his second year and clapped his brother proudly on the shoulder. Dominique, or Dom as she preferred to be called, was also in second year. There were a few eager people chanting “We got Potter!” I overheard many fervent conversation about how all of the Potters are in Gryffindor so far. I tuned out when I heard them speculating about where the newest Weasley would be.

The line quickly dwindled. Not as many people had last names in my half of the alphabet, after all. I had just seen “Vecturn, Alice” sit down at the Slytherin table when I heard Professor Swan call my name. There was a strange noise at the back of my throat. I feared I would throw up. My hands shook It became difficult to breathe. The entire world shrank down to the stool and the Hat. Somehow I found myself moving up to the stool, as if flying. Within a moment, the Hat was covering my head, and all I saw was darkness.

“Ach, another Weasley. You lot just keep multiplying, don’t you?” I heard a voice hiss in my ear. It growled, “Well, you’re different than any of the others I’ve ever seen in all my time here. You’re brave, but only when defending others. Loyalty spilling out the ears, that’s you. But only for your friends. Oh but you are clever, and oh-so ambitious. All noble ambitions of course,” he said. I imagine that if the Sorting Hat had a face, he would be smirking at me right now. “But where to put you?”

“Well isn’t that supposed to be your job?” I whisper.

“Ah, but you are particularly difficult to place. You could do well in just about any house. Hmm, where do you think you should go?” the Hat asks.

“Well,” I say to myself, “I think my whole family expects me to be in Gryffindor, but I’m afraid of that, so I don’t think I belong in Gryffindor. And I’m definitely not really much of a peace-loving Puff; I tend to get in a lot of arguments with people.”

“Well, I think I know just where to put you,” he says. Suddenly, he’s shouting

“RAVENCLAW”

The Hat is whipped off and the whole Hall erupts into cheers. Feeling as if a weight has been lifted from my shoulders, I ran over to the Ravenclaw table. Looking around, I found Scorpius, his head ducked slightly. There was a large space between him and the rest of the students, as if they had physically moved as far away from his as possible. I slid myself in next to him.

“Congrats,” he whispers, shooting me a covert smile. The Hall quiets again as we wait for “Zellweger, Anthony” to be sorted (“HUFFLEPUFF”). I leaned in next to him, hoping not to make a fuss as Headmaster Lockland gave a welcome speech.

“Thanks. How do you feel about Ravenclaw?” He smiled at me, leaning in to respond.

“Fantastic, took me a while to convince the hat I was going to use my cleverness for good, not evil,” he snickered.

“Yeah, you were under there for quite a few minutes,” I told him.

“You’re one to talk! You were definitely under for the longest amount of time. Were you debating the pros and cons of each House?” he teased. I flushed when I realized that we had been doing exactly that. “Oh my God, you actually were?” He guffawed. I was saved the indignity of having to answer by the plates that magically appeared in front of us.

We talked as we ate, but were consistently interrupted as curious people came up to ask me if I really was Ron and Hermione’s daughter. What was it really like being related to the Chosen One? Does Harry really make his kids do their chores without magic? (The answer is yes in case you were wondering. He says it builds character). Finally, at least an hour later, the Prefects called for first years, and we found our Prefects. As they led us through the halls, I found myself grabbing Scorpius’ hand to keep from losing him in the crowd. We wound our way up the staircases, careful not to miss them before they moved. When we came to a stop, we all pressed in closer to hear the Prefect speak.

“Hello yes please come closer. Ah, hello. My name is Roger McKinnon. I’m one of your seventh-year Ravenclaw prefects, and this is Ravenclaw Tower. Now, Ravenclaw Tower is unique and different from any of the other House common rooms. Does anyone know why?”

“Is it because of the knocker?” A small boy with dark skin and big, brown eyes pipes up. Roger raises his eyebrows and smiles.

“Very good, it is. And you are?” he asks.

“Alex,” the boy answers.

“Well Alex, do you know what about the knocker makes it special?” Alex shakes his head. “All of the other houses have passwords which grant them access to their common rooms. However, this knocker is our entrance.” He gestures to the bronze phoenix head. “The phoenix provides us with a riddle. Before gaining entry, we must answer the riddle. If you get it wrong, you can keep trying until you get it right, and your friends can help you. So, do we have any brave first-years who’d like to try?” There was a tense silence, and no one stepped up. Suddenly, I felt a pull on my arm. Belatedly, I realized i had still been holding Scorpius’ hand and he was pulling away. He stepped up into the space between the group and the knocker.

“I’d like to try,” he said, trying to sound bolder than he felt, probably. He clenched his hands into fists as he spoke. Roger’s expression instantly puckered. His eyes roved over Scorpius as if he were the scum on the bottom of his trainers.

“Malfoy. Go ahead, you can try,” he sneered. Scorpius’ face flushed slightly, but he proudly raised one hand and knocked. The phoenix opened her mouth and spoke with a melodic voice.

“What is the difference between darkness and light?” she asked. Scorpius stood for a moment, then his face lifted.

“As Plato once said ‘we can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light.’” He looked so proud of himself, but then Roger opened his mouth.

“You can’t just repeat someone else’s words as your answer. That’s not even right,” Roger scoffed. I walked forward.

“That’s not necessarily true,” I tell him. “If you tell me the sky is blue, and Scorpius asks me what the sky looks like today, I can say ‘well, Roger said it was blue,’ and that would be a completely accurate example. We use ancient philosophers’ interpretations and ideas as a basis, a building block for our own. They help us figure ourselves out and determine our views on the world. With your logic, we can never learn from the past, yeah?” I challenged him.

“Well, he didn’t use the Plato quote as a building block, he just parroted it. The knocker requires an explanation,” Roger added.

“Well, perhaps if you had given him a moment to expand, he would have,” I told him. “Right, Scorpius?” I elbowed him.

“Yeah, I was going to say that darkness is typically depicted as a place of fears. It’s why children are afraid of it. Darkness is where evil things live, like monsters and liars and scary things. Light, on the other hand, is more typically viewed as truth. In the light, there is no place for the lies to hide. It’s unfortunate for men who are afraid of the light because they fear the truth.”

“A wonderful example,” the knocker interjects, and the door opens. Scorpius looked over at me triumphantly.

“Well, don’t you look like the cat who ate the canary,” I told him, elbowing him gently. We clambered into the common room, spinning in slow circles, looking around at the wall-to-wall bookshelves.

“Boys dormitories upstairs on the left. Girls on the right,” Roger announces.

“Well, will I see you in the morning, Scorpius?” I ask him, suddenly shy. He looks down at me and smiles.

“Of course. I’m beat, so I’m going to bed now. Um, see you in the morning,” he said. I waved and started up the stairs. I was about halfway up when I heard him call out.

“Yeah Scorp?” I asked, jumping back down a few steps to hear him.

“Thanks for helping me out back there, you know, with Roger and the knocker,” he said quietly. I smiled down at him. The Sorting Hat’s words reverberated in my mind. Loyalty spilling out the ears, that’s you. But only for your friends.

“That’s what friends are for,” I told him. He smiled broadly at me.

“Yeah, friends. Night,” he said again. I smiled one more time as I turned and headed back up to my dormitory.


	2. The First Shift

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rose and her friends officially become Animagi.

2: The First Shift

  
  


“What are you doing?” I heard a deep voice rumble from behind me. I grabbed my mother’s leg, using it to clamber to my feet. Spinning around, I ran my head into his chest. His arms, toned from four seasons as beater and likely a summer of training, encircled me, keeping me upright. I looked up and saw him smirking down at me. His hair had gotten a bit darker, resembling more of a golden blonde than a white blond. Oh, he was still pale, but his blue eyes stood out more, as if he had been getting a little more sun or something.

“Scorpius! You’re here!” I said, hugging him. I turned around and hissed, “you could have told me that before I started begging, mum.” She just chuckled.

“Who was I to interrupt? You were putting on quite a show,” she said with a smile, pulling her long bushy hair back into a ponytail.

“What, exactly, were you begging for?” Scorpius asked. I took a step back from him to better see his face; he had gotten a lot taller over the summer.

“I was begging for her to allow you to come over for the rest of the holiday! Holly came yesterday, but they hadn’t given me an answer about you. They kept saying ‘maybe’ and ‘we’ll have to see, what with the shower and all,’ and other junk. I was afraid you were going to miss all the fun!” He laughed, and I punched his arm.

“Your mum sent me an owl a week ago, telling me when I could come over.”

“Hermione, have you seen my wand?” I heard my dad call out. He lumbered into the living room. He straightened up when he saw Scorpius but smiled and offered his hand.

“Scorpius, how are you?” Scorpius took his hand.

“Good, thanks Mr. Weasley, sir. How are you?”

“Ah, I’m excellent. Your dad’s good then? Your mum?” Scorpius nodded. “Good, good. Now, ‘mione, my wand, have you seen it?”

“Ronald, I swear you’d lose your head if it wasn’t attached. I saw it in the bedroom.” She rolled her eyes.

“I looked there, and I didn’t see it,” he insisted.

“If I walk in that room and find it, I swear to Merlin,” she muttered as she stalked out of the room. Dad followed behind her, giving us a wave.

“So,” Scorpius drawled. I grabbed his forearm.

“I did it,” I whispered. “Did you?” His eyes widened.

“Yeah, just got it last week. Did your mum set up an appointment with the ministry?”

“Not as far as I know. Holly said she did it just the day before she came here. Wouldn’t show me until you got here though.”

“Rose, your mum said Scorpius is here. I told her that couldn’t be because you would have told me,” Holly shouted. I heard her thumping down the stairs. She screeched when she walked in. “Obviously I was wrong, you cow! And here, I thought we were friends,” she said, thumping me on the shoulder. I shoved her back playfully, but she just ran right into Scorpius’ arms, hugging him.

“Holly, it’s only been a month, not a year,” he said as she released him.

“Oh, well I get lonely. My sister spends her entire holiday sleeping at her best friend’s house down the street. Literally, she spent the first night home then practically moved in with Samantha Baker, the muggle girl down the street, as if they hadn’t hung out the entire school year. They’re inseparable. I swear, if I had an owl, I’d have mailed myself to you.” She flipped her dark brown hair back. This is Holly Brookes, my best friend (besides Scorp), in all her dramatic, raging glory. Her hazel eyes flashed at me, and I knew she hadn’t let me off the hook yet.

“Oh, Hols, come on, he just got here. We were about to get you, I swear!” I apologized profusely. I watched her face soften. Good old Holly can never stay angry for long.

“Oh, yeah whatever. Anyways, let’s go up to the bedroom. We can get the full rundown of everyone’s holiday there,” she invited, leading us both by hand up the stairs.

When we got to my room, Holly flopped down on the cot we set up for her, ruffling the Chudley Cannons bedspread my dad always insists on using for guests. Scorpius lowered himself into my desk chair and proceeded to peruse my bookshelf, as if he hasn’t already borrowed each book at least twice. I sat crosslegged on my bed, leaning against the wall.

“Who’s sharing first?” I asked. Holly raised her eyebrow at me, and Scorpius shrugged.

“Ladies first,” he offered, gesturing towards me. I groaned.

“Well, I guess nothing too spectacular happened. I did my summer coursework. I practiced flying with Hugo. Hung out with my cousins and everyone. That’s pretty much it,” I shrugged. Holly groaned.

“Oh, come on! What about Harvey, how’s he doing?” I flushed. Harvey Arnold Smith, a seventh year Slytherin was my boyfriend of eight months. He was stunningly beautiful with thick, brown, wavy hair and big brown eyes. He had an easy smile that he loved to show off and a dimple cute as the dickens. But by God was that boy dumb. It’s like the lights are on, but nobody’s home.

“Well, he and his family are on a trip in Algeria and he told me he wouldn’t be able to receive mail while he was gone. I saw him once before he left and we had a picnic over in the meadow. It was… nice,” I said. I shrugged.

“Nice? That’s all? No details? Come on, Rose! Was it nice like ‘eh, I guess it was nice’ or nice like ‘oh damn that boy is nice’ or like ‘that boy is nice in bed’ or what?” Holly shrieked. I flushed deeper.

“It was just nice,” I insisted.

“Let me guess, he was a perfect gentleman. Held open doors for you, made you a nice lunch, then kissed your cheek before he left,” Scorpius guessed, raising one eyebrow at me.

“Not exactly. He was very sweet, opening doors and the like, but he didn’t want to leave it with just a kiss on the cheek.” I flushed furiously, cursing my pale complexion. “Harvey seems to know exactly how far he wants to go: all the way. Me, now I’m not as certain.” This had been the main point of contention between Harvey and me.

“He didn’t push it too far, did he?” Scorpius’ brow knitted together, his protective instincts kicking in. Scorp was like our big brother, always ready to kick ass in our defense. One time, in third year, after he hit his growth spurt, he got a month’s detention for hexing a boy who had dared to try and take advantage of Holly.

“Down Scorpy,” Holly laughed.

“No, he took ‘no’ for an answer. he just wasn’t happy about it.” I sighed heavily. “Scorp, your turn.” He shrugged.

“I already told you guys the biggest piece of news. Miranda and I broke up.” He says this as if it isn’t a big deal, but his shoulders tense ever-so-slightly. Miranda was his girlfriend of six months. She was a Hufflepuff in her fifth year, a year below us. She was stunning, probably part Veela, like my cousin Dominique.

“You didn’t tell us why,” I point out. He takes a deep breath.

“I’ll tell you, but you have to promise that it stays within this room.” He levels his gaze at us. “I mean it. This story stays in here.”

“Fine, fine, I promise. Now, go!” Holly shouts. He looks out the window and takes another deep breath.

“She cheated on me. With some Slytherin bloke in her year. Allen Davies or something. I  went to her house to surprise her on our six-month anniversary, and I found them… They were in bed together.” He didn’t look away from the window the entire time. Holly put her hand up to her mouth, and I could see her eyes filling with tears.

“Scorp, I’m so sorry.” I reached out and put a hand on his shoulder. Finally, he looked back at me.

“She didn’t even say she was sorry. Just said that we were in different places and that it was for the best. How could she not even apologize for the way it ended?” I opened my mouth and closed it, no sound coming out. I leaned my head against his chest, and Holly curled up against his shoulder, throwing her arms around his shoulders. We sat there for a few moments.

“Anyways, that happened. Not much else happened after that. I hung around the Manor, read some books and stuff. You know, the usual.” He shrugged and Holly and I backed off. “Your turn, Hols,” he said, giving us a small smile.

“I already told you everything. I was isolated in my bedroom, my sister left me, and I was bored a lot.” I nudged her with my foot.

“Oh come on, no magical hookups with muggle boys? You always have some story of a classmate from primary school who got really, really attractive and asked you on a date. Did you run out of old friends?” She smiled.

“Okay, so I wasn’t actually in my bedroom the entire time. I ran into Evan Riley. He still looks a little dweeby, kinda scrawny and pale, but he was so sweet. I met him at the playground. We just talked, and didn’t even hold hands. It was just nice and we hung out a little. I’m pretty certain he might be gay.” Scorpius chuckled.

“What, if a guy isn’t big, tall and tan with rippling muscles he must be gay? Or is it if he doesn’t want to make out with you upon first sight then he must be gay?” Holly flushed.

“No, it’s not that. I’m not that conceited, gosh. It’s just this vibe, and he kept eyeing the guys playing football over on the field.” She shoved Scorpius’ shoulder. “Now, can we all talk about the big elephant in the room? Did we all accomplish our mission?” I felt a tingle run through my body. I nodded along with Scorp.

Last summer, when we were staying at Malfoy Manor (we spend summers at each others’ houses on a rotating schedule), we decided to learn how to become animagi. We had just gotten our results back from the OWLs, and were marvelling over our ‘Outstandings’ in Transfiguration. Holly had said would be so cool if we became animagi and how we should all learn together. Pretty soon, it became a challenge, then a pact. We set a deadline for this summer, and the process commenced.

“So, are we going to tell everyone what animals we change into?” Scorpius asked. I shook my head as Holly opened her mouth.

“No, let’s not tell.” Holly and Scorpius quirked their heads at me. I smirked at them. “Let’s show.” Scorpius barked out a laugh.

“Right here? Right now?” Holly asked.

“On three. One. Two. Three.” I closed my eyes and thought about the shift. I felt my legs bending and curling. My spine bent, my nose elongated and my nails grew. My teeth shifted in my mouth and everywhere I felt fur exploding from my skin. It didn’t hurt, it felt more like massaging a sore muscle: it ached but ultimately felt good. When the shift was over, I stood there, now in the form of a dog. A hound to be precise. I sniffed around the room, looking for my friends. Friends are good. Friends like to play chase, I found myself thinking. There were two distinct smells. One smelt like dust, tuna, fur, and something odd, something that made my skin itch. Find that scent. Find it and chase it up a tree. The other scent was more familiar, more like mine. It smelt like grass and chew toys, logs on the fire and pine trees. Find that scent. It’s a friend. I looked around to find the scents.

The first belonged to a cat. It was a small, calico cat. She had fluffy hair and large, green eyes. Her tail twitched and she rubbed herself against my bed. Defiling it. Disgusting cat smell all over my bed. A sound startled me, and I turned to find the owner of the other scent. It was a dog, like me. The big black lab behind me barked again, happily as it wagged its tail. I barked back, sniffing the dog and licking his ear. The dog pulled on my ear as the cat, unhappy at being ignored, jumped on the other dog’s back.

Run outside, I thought, show this dog how fast you can run. Show him how you can chase the cat and catch the cat. Suddenly, the cat started changing, growing. The smell changed and Holly was standing in its place. Remembering that this was Scorpius who was biting my ear, he and I also shifted back.

“That was…” Holly hesitated, trying to find the right word.

“Brilliant.”

“Fantastic.”

“Amazing.”

“The greatest thing ever.”

“Perfect.”

“Wonderful.” Scorpius and I threw words out at Holly, sitting on the floor next to each other. She sat down on the bed and smiled broadly.

“Yeah,” she whispered. “Yeah, that was cool.” We all smiled once more as it sank in. We were animagi now.

 

“Rose, the ministry is here for your animagus certification. Scorpius, Holly, your test administrators are here as well,” Mum called down the next day. After we shifted the first time the other day, we told my parents and Mum got some people from the Animagus Regulation Department (a sub-department under the Magical Law Enforcement Division) to come in and get us properly registered.

We thumped down the stairs, and I tried to swallow my nerves. What the hell were they going to do to test us? Make us shift ten times? Make us recite our transformation spells? Will we have to write an essay on the process of shifting? Not that I’d really mind any of those things, but I was terrified of what would happen if I failed. What if there was some ridiculous technicality that I messed up? I took a deep breath, steeling my nerves, and entered the living room.

Hugo sat on the couch, studying his cuticles. Dad leaned against the fireplace mantle, watching Mum fuss over the Ministry workers, as if she doesn’t already see them every day. She is only the head of their department, after all. There were three of them. Two men and one woman. The woman was old, her gray hair pulled back into a bun that Minerva McGonagall would be jealous of. The men were very bland-looking, with brown hair and plain blue eyes.

“Hello,” the woman said. “I’m Helen Rowdley, and I’m the head of the Animagus Regulation Department. We’re here, as you well know, to officially register you three as Animagi. To properly follow procedure, we must take each of you one at a time. Who’s first?” I widened my eyes and we stood there in silence for a moment. My mum cleared her throat.

“I’ll go first,” Scorpius said. The three officials led him into the dining room and closed the door. We sat in silence, waiting for him to reemerge. We heard the occasional yap coming from the dining room, and I couldn’t help but crack a smile. When he came back out, he could only offer us a weak smile. Holly walked in next.

“What happened?” I whisper. He shakes his head.

“They said I can’t tell you. We can discuss it after, but not now.” I tried not to pout. I sat on my hands, then stood up to pace. A pathetic mewling sound came from the dining room. Before I was prepared, Holly was ushering me into the dining room. I sat in the chair where Mum usually sat for meals.

“Alright, take a deep breath. I promise this isn’t as scary as you believe it is. Now, you just need to fill out this form really quick. Full name?”

“Rose Amber Weasley.”

“NEWT and OWL Transfiguration and Charms grades?”

“Outstanding for both on my OWLs. I haven’t taken my NEWTs yet.” One of the men raised his eyebrow, looking impressed.

“What year are you in?” he asked.

“Sixth,” I answered.

“Amazing. All three of you, animagi before NEWT year.” He was muttering, more to himself than me.

“Describe how you went about becoming an animagus.” I looked at the woman, and took a deep breath.

“First I had to figure out what my form would be. I used a potion which my professor suggested, and which I brewed under her supervision. The potion helped me realize my form. Then I started writing my spell, in English first. Once I had a suitable draft in English, I translated it into Latin. When I felt it was ready and had been translated properly, I had my mother supervise my first shift, to ensure that nothing would go wrong. After the first shift, it was no longer necessary for me to speak the spell. Now I can shift by visualizing it, and thinking myself as my animal form.”

“What is your animal form?”

“A hound. Medium build with white fur and black and red spots.”

“Can you shift for me? We need to make note of any special markings for proper identification.” I closed my eyes and shifted, becoming the dog. It was difficult to sit still and allow them to poke, prod, and inspect every inch of me. I couldn’t help but whimper when they levitated me to get a better view of my underbelly. Finally, they told me I could shift back.

“Congratulations Ms. Weasley,” Madame Rowdley said, beaming. She stuck out her hand for me to shake. “You’re now a full-fledged animagi. Welcome to the club,” she added with a conspirational wink. As Mum led the officials out the door, all I wanted to do was throw my head back, and let out one long, happy, howl.

I did it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are a drug I can't live without! Let me know what you think!


	3. A Long, Strange Trip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the trio explore their new Animagus abilities, and attend a baby shower.

Chapter 3: A Long Strange Trip

  
  
  


“Well, you’re animagi now,” Mum beamed at us.

“Let’s see it then,” Hugo said, trying very hard to sound disinterested. He was picking at his fingernails as if he really didn’t care that we were animagi. But he kept looking up, waiting for us to shift. His ears reddened when Mum swatted his arm.

“Don’t be so rude. And don’t you put them on the spot.” He held up his hands, surrendering to her, before he stomped upstairs, more embarrassed at being told off by Mum in front of people than he was angry. There was silence for a moment.

“Mum, could we go out for a while? Stretch our new legs?” I pleaded. Dad stood, clapping Scorpius and Holly on the shoulder, his mouth stretched so wide I thought it must hurt his facial muscles.

“Go,” he said. “Run, fly, swim, do whatever it is that you animagi do. Be home by midnight, and remember you have the shower tomorrow.” I smiled at my friends and we took off running. We waited until we were out of sight of the house before we shifted, and then we really took off.

 

“Ugh, why does morning have to be so damn early?” I groaned as light shone through my window. Holly grunted in response. I stretched and encountered a warm lump at the bottom of my bed. I lifted my head and found a black lab curled up, sound asleep and snoring quietly, snuffling and kicking his legs every so often. I smiled at Scorpius.

“Girls, let’s go! I need your help getting ready for the Victoire’s party today! Nana is expecting us at the Burrow in fifteen minutes!” I sat up, stretching my arms above my head. I threw a pillow at Holly and she swore at me. Scorpius barked happily, jumping from my bed to hers.

“Scor, go back to the guest room. You have to get dressed!” I laughed, finally waking up. Holly was standing up, searching through my closet. She slammed the door behind Scorpius as he bounded down the hallway, still a dog.

“What are you wearing?” she asked me, stifling a yawn. I shrugged and started looking through my closet. We decided to wear dresses. She wore her light blue maxidress, and advised me to wear my floral, knee-length dress. I pinned my hair half-up, half-down and helped put Holly’s long, caramel hair in a plait. We met the rest of the family down in the living room at the fireplace. Hugo, Scorp and my dad were wearing jeans and white button downs. Dad and Hugo wore red ties, and Scorpius wore a royal blue tie.

“Now, we’re going to the Burrow early because I told Victoire and Fleur and Nana that we would help get ready for the party. We are not there to lounge around and eat food,” Mom warned us. She held out the pot of Floo powder. I went first, taking a pinch. The green flames swirled around me and I tucked my arms to my chest; once I had forgotten to do that and I broke my elbow, smacking it against one of the grates. I stepped out into Nana’s living room and greeted her with a hug. She wrapped her arms around me, and I inhaled the scent that I could only describe as “the Burrow.”

“Oh hello Rose, how are you dear? You’re so skinny, are you eating? Come, have some breakfast. You must be hungry,” she said, shooing me into the kitchen. Nana solved every problem, celebrated every victory and rewarded every triumph with food. As I sat down with some beans and toast, I heard Hugo getting the same welcome. Slowly, my family joined me in the kitchen. Only Holly, Scorpius, Hugo and I ate. Mum and dad were receiving their tasks from Nana, then left, running off to feed the chickens and set the tables up outside, hang the decorations, set up the tent. As we ate, Grandad came down and sat with us. Nana was busy bossing everyone else around and delegated the task of handling us to Grandad.

“Now, you’re mostly going to help with setting up the food table and everything. Holly, Nana might need your help with a little of the cooking. Scorpius, you can go find Ron and help him with extending the tables and setting out the chairs and silverware. Rose, you can oversee all the food table setup. As soon as you’re done, feel free to start working,” he said as we ate.

“Arthur,” Nana called out. “Did you pick up the food from the muggle caterers?” Grandad swore under his breath.

“No, Molly I forgot. Sorry about that. I’ll send the kids down there right now,” he called back.

“Need help, sir?” Scorpius asked. Grandad sighed, then looked around shiftily, grimacing terribly.

“Yeah, I need someone to go into town and pick up the food. I was supposed to do it before you came over but I forgot. Could you kids do it? I can take care of your chores while you’re gone,” he said quickly. I shrugged. Something about this seemed strange; there is no way in hell Nana would ever let Grandad forget anything.

“Where do we need to go?” Scorpius said. Grandad pulled a list out of his pocket, handing it to us.

“These are the instructions Molly gave me. I guess she said the food is already paid for and just needs to be picked up. Thanks a million kids.” Scorpius took the paper and Grandad ran up the stairs. I just shrugged at Holly and started walking towards town.

“So, why exactly is Victoire having a baby shower for a second child? I mean, isn’t it typically done so that new parents get help acquiring the proper supplies for a child? Wouldn’t they already have a crib, playpen, clothes and whatnot?” Holly asked as we ambled. I shrugged.

“I don’t really know. I mean, I love Vic, I really do, and Teddy too. But you know her: what Vic wants, Vic gets. I just hope they bring Cecilie,” I told her, smiling. Cecilie is their first born child, their daughter. She’s adorable, and I absolutely loved her. She looked like her mum, all blond ringlets and blue eyes. I know Teddy was a bit put out that she wasn’t a metamorphmagus like he is, but I personally don’t think she could be any cuter if she tried.

“Well, duh they will. You think they were going to leave her to the wolves?” She jokes.

“Or worse,” I deadpan. “The werewolves.” As we’re laughing, I feel a pang of guilt. Teddy’s dad was a werewolf. I bite my lip, halting my laughter. Holly doesn’t notice because, as we were laughing, a black blur ran beneath me, knowing me flat on the ground. I looked up, rubbing a sore spot on my back where I had landed on a rock. Scorpius, in dog form, was staring at me. His tongue lolled out of the side of his mouth, as if he were trying to smile. He barked once, cocking his head. He turned and took a few steps away from me, then turned to see if I was following. I grinned, shifting immediately.

“Guys, come on, I don’t know if I’m as fast as you when I’m a cat!” Holly complained. I tried to ignore her, but the scent of frustration permeated the air. I barked once, then chased after Scorpius.

Run. Run faster than him. Chase him. Tackle him. I let my instincts take charge, not protesting. Scorp was wriggling underneath me, but he was bigger and stronger than me, made especially so in his dog form. He threw me off of him then quickly grabbed my front leg, bringing me down to the ground. He stood over me, pinning me down. Let him dominate you. I whimpered, but didn’t struggle. He put his jaw on my neck. I knew he could feel my pulse racing in my neck. He jumped off of me, tongue lolling out again. He took off towards the town and we began the process all over again, hardly noticing the calico cat that followed behind us primly, sitting and flicking her tail every time we paused to wrestle.

 

It was nearly two hours later that we were stumbling our way back home, struggling to carry all of our boxes of food. Once we were obscured by the hills, far away from any prying muggle eyes, we enchanted the food so that it floated along beside us.

“Should I have gotten Vic something?” Holly asks when we’re about halfway to the Burrow. I looked over at Scorpius, befuddled. She had spoken suddenly, cutting off a conversation about our upcoming courses.

“Oh, Hols, I’m sure she won’t even notice. I mean, with all the Weasleys and the Potters, there’s too many people to keep track. You’ll be fine,” I assured her. She swatted my arm.

“You didn’t answer my question. I didn’t ask if she’d be upset if I didn’t I did get her something. I’m asking if I should have.”

“Oh,” was all I had to say. “Um, well,” I trailed off intelligently.

“I have something for her. It’s kind of small, but I figured it’s the thought that really counts,” Scorpius added.

“My entire family got her something, I think. Mum said she put me on the card.” I wasn’t really all that worried about it. As we reached the crest of a hill, the Burrow finally came into view. I nearly cried with relief. Despite not having to carry the food, it was still hot as Hades and I was soaked through with sweat. Upon entering the house around the back, we sent the food into the kitchen. “Hello?” I called out.

“In the living room,” my cousin James called back. We all started towards the room. As soon as we stepped through the entryway, there was an explosion of noise. Everyone was shouting over each other, explosions filled the air, and above it all I heard Cecilie laughing.

“Congratulations!” They all seemed to be saying. I blinked, trying to take in the sight around me. Literally every member of my family, plus Scorpius’ parents plus Holly’s family was squished into the living room. There was literally no room to breathe. I blinked quickly, taking an unconscious step backwards. “Whoa,” I whispered.

“Dad, mum, what are you doing here?” Scorpius asked. I took another step backward,  breathing deeply. I watched as my cousin Fred shifted. He was wedged between Teddy and my Uncle George. In trying to move, he had to elbow his way through three people, including his sister Roxie, just to make himself more comfortable. I wrapped my arms around myself, reassuring myself that I had enough space to breathe. Even though I wasn’t surrounded by anyone, it was like the Burrow was shrinking around me.

“We know we told you this party was for Victoire, but it was actually just to congratulate you guys on becoming animagi!” Nana said brightly.

“Mum, can we spread out a bit now? The living room is getting a bit cramped for me,” my dad said softly, glancing at me. I took another step back. Scorpius turned around, noticing my discomfort.

“Yes, yes, go. We’ll start eating in fifteen minutes. I have to go finish getting the food ready,” she said, extracting herself from the fray. Immediately, everyone swelled out from the room. I mumbled some excuse about needing to use the loo and ran upstairs, all the way up to my aunt Ginny’s old room. I sat on the edge of the tub in her loo, holding my head in my hands. There was a soft knock on the door.

“Rose?”

“A little busy at the moment, Scorp. Maybe later,” I whispered. He opened the door anyways. He just sat on the floor in front of me. He took my hands in his and rubbed soothing circles with his thumb. Slowly, my breathing returned to normal. The walls stopped closing in.

“Better?” he asked. I flushed with embarrassment.

“Yeah. Ready to go down to the party?” He nodded, holding the door open for me. When I came out into the yard, dad caught my eye, silently asking if I was okay. I nodded and he went back to talking to Uncle Harry.

“So, this party isn’t for Victoire?” Scorpius asked me. I giggled.

“I guess she decided she didn’t really need anything for the new baby after all,” I whispered back. Holly bounded up next to us and we slowly sidled toward the table.

“So, what am I to do with my gift?” she asked, producing a small yellow bag with a duck on it. I raised my eyebrow. “What?” she said defensively. “Ducks are classic baby decorations.”

“Hey, congratulations cuz,” I heard. A large arm came out of nowhere, crushing me in a headlock and ruffling my hair.

“Teddy, let go,” I laughed. He let me out of the headlock only to envelope me in a hug. “And thanks,” I beamed. “So, listen, Holly and Scorp got you and Vic some gifts for the baby, seeing as we thought this was her party,” I said, lowering my voice. He pretended to cower under my attempts at being threatening, even letting his hair turn white.

“Ah, come on Rosie! I know you’re a Ravenclaw, but you can’t know everything! We had to celebrate, and you know the Wotters love a good surprise party!” He gestured to someone on the other side of the yard and in a few moments, Victoire was waddling towards us. She was only five months pregnant, but she was so big she looked like she could be nine months. Not that I’d ever tell her that.

“Congrats,” she said, smiling. Teddy wrapped a hand around her waist. Before anyone else could speak, Cecilie came bounding out of nowhere and ran into my legs. I lifted her up and she buried her head in my shoulder. She lifted her head and looked up at me, smiling.

“Congatlashons, Wosie!” she said proudly, carefully enunciating each syllable. There is no doubt in my mind that she rehearsed that with her parents. She giggled again and I couldn’t help but laugh too.

“So, Vic, I guess Rose’s friends brought gifts for the baby since they didn’t know that the party was actually for them,” Teddy stated. Cecilie snuggled her head up against my shoulder again, losing herself in my hair.

“Such sweet kids,” she proclaimed. “You didn’t have to do that, even if the party had been for me!”

“It was no trouble,” Holly insisted, handing over the gift. Not wanting to miss out on the fun, Cecilie squirmed out of my arms to help open the present. She pulled at the paper until she found a small white box. Cecilie couldn’t read the box, but as Vic did, she smiled.

“Thank you so much Holly,” Teddy said.

“Whassit?” Cecilie asked.

“It’s a present for the baby, so that mummy and daddy can know when the baby is crying,” Vic said softly.

“Yeah, I mean, my parents are muggles and they swore by these things when my sister and I were kids. I did some looking around and found the magical version of a baby monitor. Just thought it might be helpful,” Holly said, rubbing the back of her neck while she spoke. My cousin stood up and hugged Holly.

“I don’t know if mine is as useful as that,” Scorpius mumbled, handing over a package. “And I definitely didn’t wrap it as nicely. It’s just a mobile.” Cecilie tore at the paper before her father took the package away from her, warning her to be gentle. He reached in and picked up the mobile. It was beautiful.

There were three layers, each one slowly rotating. The outermost layer rotated counterclockwise. It had the sun, moon and stars all made out of what looked like glass, but each shone a different color. In the second ring, which rotated clockwise, there were a few people. There was a man, who would change into a wolf and back every few seconds. Then there was a woman whose hair changed color each time the man shifted to a wolf. Next came another man who also changed color, but he was never the same color as the woman. Then there was a woman with long blond hair. Then a baby with similar blond hair. They all spun slowly in a circle, chasing each other round and round, hanging slightly lower than the stars, as if they were trying to catch them.

The innermost ring spun counterclockwise and it hung the lowest, as if it were intended for a child to reach up and grab the hanging toys, which Cecilie promptly did. There was a group of animals, plush and fluffy, waiting to be cuddled. A lion swung next to an elephant and a zebra. But opposite these three animals were a black, white and red dog, a black dog, and a calico looking cat. Victoire had her hand to her mouth and tears in her eyes.

“It’s beautiful. Wherever did you get it?” she asked softly. Scorpius went slightly pink.

“I made it. It was mostly just a few simple charms and a couple of transfiguration spells for the color changing bits and shape shifting things.” Teddy grasped Scorpius’ hand, pulling him in for a hug. Vic came at him as soon as Teddy released him, leaning over her stomach to grip him tightly.

“It’s perfect,” she told him. “And we can’t be more thankful.”

“Yeah Scorp,” Holly laughed, still watching, mesmerized, as the wolf changed to man again. “Way to blow my gift out of the water.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm looking for someone to be my Beta, reading over my chapters and checking things out. If you're interested, let me know!


	4. Endings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The summer passed quickly after that in a blur of Diagon Alley trips, trips to the muggle town for ice cream and late nights playing Truth or Dare, a muggle game that mum taught me when I was little. Before we knew it, it was the first of September and we were trying to pack everything we owned into our trunks and get ready on time so that we could leave.

Chapter 4: Endings

  
  


The summer passed quickly after that in a blur of Diagon Alley trips, trips to the muggle town for ice cream and late nights playing Truth or Dare, a muggle game that mum taught me when I was little. Before we knew it, it was the first of September and we were trying to pack everything we owned into our trunks and get ready on time so that we could leave.

“I told you to get yourself packed last night, Hugo! Why are you just doing it now?” I heard Mum shriek. Holly and I widened our eyes and began to throw things into our trunk, no longer trying to do it neatly. Just as we heard her start down the hall towards our room, we slammed our trunks closed. I threw on a hoodie and leaned over to tie my shoe, listening as she opened the door.

“Morning Mrs. Weasley,” Holly smiled. I straightened up and mum looked like she could cry with relief.

“Oh thank Merlin you two are ready. It seems no one else is ready to go and the car we ordered will be here any moment! Could you make sure Scorpius is ready while I take your trunks down?” We nodded.

“Hey, mum, have you seen Sherlock?” Sherlock is my cat and he absolutely loves to run away. He doesn’t like the Hogwarts Express, see, because he has to ride in a carrier or a basket for a few hours. That’s why he and I are so close; neither one of us does very well with confinement.

“No,” she sighed. “I’d check the attic. That’s where he hid last time.” I nod and hurry to extract him from the box of old baby clothes in the attic. It takes Holly’s help to extract the old blue knit jumper from his claws. I hope mum wasn’t too attached to Hugo’s first Weasley sweater. It had a few pulls and dangling threads now. I shoved him unceremoniously in his carrier and ran out front to meet everyone.

There was much screaming, many arguments, and only one minor meltdown when Hugo told mum he’d left his school ties at home. All of them. She was practically in tears but we were too close to King’s Cross to turn back. As we went through the barrier, she said she’d mail the ties and he would have to borrow someone’s until then. Finally, we were relaxing against the train seats, waving out the window as the Hogwarts Express pulled away from the station.

“Finally,” Hugo muttered mutinously. He waved goodbye and took off to find some friends his own age. Holly threw open the door to the nearest compartment and we threw ourselves inside of it.

“Hols, we have to go to the Prefects carriage for a little bit. Are you gonna be okay here alone?” Holly just shrugged.

“If I ever get bored, I can always close the door, let Sherlock out and hang out with him in cat form.” I smiled at her as Scorpius and I went to the front carriage. Most of the other Prefects had arrived and were mingling. As we closed the door behind us, James threw his hand into it to stop it. He and Dom sauntered in, the two Gryffindor Prefects for their year.

“Alright, that’s everyone. Let’s get started then,” this year’s Head Girl, Miranda Stevens said. Everyone hushed. The Head Boy, Alex Corner, stepped up beside her. They began the meeting, reviewing the rules and protocols for all the new Prefects. Having heard this before, I zoned out, choosing instead to focus on the scenery out the window. Finally, he dismissed the Ravenclaw Prefects. All that was left to do was give out passwords for each house.

“That was wretched,” Scorpius whispered in my ear. I grinned.

“Oh, believe me, I know. I kind of miss being at home already. It was much easier to just disappear and run. You know? Already, my dog personality is becoming a part of me,” I chuckled. Scorpius nodded emphatically, then made a face as something occurred to him.

“Hey, isn’t Harvey a prefect? Why wasn’t he at the meeting?” I cocked my head to the side. I hadn’t even realized he wasn’t at the meeting. We opened the door to our compartment and found two cats lounging on opposite sides of the carriage. On one side was Holly who, upon seeing us, changed back into herself with a lazy smile and a yawn. On the other side was a black cat. Well, he was mostly black. Scorpius had helped me pick Sherlock out in first year. He insisted I should get a black kitten because they’re statistically the least popular. I wanted an orange cat because they’re adorable. We compromised when we found Sherlock. He was mostly black but had a few small spots of orange on all four of his paws, his tail, his nose and his belly. Before he could dart out the open door, I scooped him up until Scorp closed the door.

“Maybe he missed the train,” I suggested to Scorpius.

“Who missed the train?” Holly asked.

“Harvey,” Scorpius told her. Her eyes widened and her cheeks turned pink, one of Holly Brooke’s thirteen sure-fire tells that she is lying, or in this case, hiding something. Slowly, she pulls a piece of paper out from under Sherlock’s carrier.

“He sent you an owl and, I shouldn’t have read it, so I’m sorry about that but I did. It came while you were in the prefect carriage and I was just so bored and so damn lonely. Then this owl came along and it had a letter and the outside wasn’t properly addressed, it was blank, see? So I just opened it, deciding I’d see who it was addressed to but then I read it. And, well, to  make a long story short, Harvey says he is running a little late with his trip but he wants you to meet him in his dormitory when he gets there at midnight tonight. Oh, and did I mention I’m sorry?” She says this entire statement in one breath. It’s quite impressive, actually. I try to stay angry with her, seeing as she did invade my privacy and all.

“Well, you should be sorry,” I frown at her. She looks so sad, like a kicked puppy and I can’t help but feel guilty. “You’re just lucky I can’t stay mad at you.” She beams and hands me the letter. Turning to Scorpius, they begin chatting about classes and what they hope to learn and things. I open the letter.

 

Dear Rose,

I hope my owl can catch you before the train leaves, otherwise Tyrone is in for a seriously difficult flight. Anyways, I’m just writing to tell you that mum had to extend our trip a day, and as a result, I’ll be a little late for school. I’ll be there tonight, after the feast.

Do you think you could come to my dorm around midnight tonight? Alex sent me the password when I told him I’d be late. Password is “parseltongue.” Hope you can make it.

 

Miss you,

Harvey

 

Something doesn’t sit right with me. I’m not entirely sure what it is. Maybe it’s because he sent Alex Corner an owl before he sent me one. Obviously he had to have done because he wouldn’t have the password otherwise. Or maybe it’s because the letter was so short. I mean, we haven’t seen each other in three months and that’s all he has to say?

Maybe it’s just me. I mean, there’s no sparks with me and Harvey. I mean, he’s a pretty fantastic kisser. Of course, that makes me uncomfortable. He’s clearly had practice kissing lots of girls. He’s always been popular and I’m not. I mean, sure, people talk about me because I’m Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley’s daughter. Two thirds of the perfect trio and all that. But Harvey is my first real relationship. So I’m probably not a great kisser and he’s just so bloody good at it. And then there’s the fact that we can’t have a real conversation. I always feel like I’m dumbing things down for him.

Oh God.

That’s it. He’s going to break up with me. That’s why his letter was so cold. I’m a rubbish kisser, and he probably thinks I’m conceited. Maybe being so much stupider than I am is awkward for him. Oh God, I am conceited. Oh well. I’d rather be confident in my intelligence. But the real problem is that by this time tomorrow, I’ll probably be single. He’s gonna break up with me.

“She’s doing it again.”

“She always does this.”

“I suppose we should stop it.”

“She’s probably imagining all the terrible ways she’s going to die this year.”

“She’s worse than Trelawney.”

“So bloody cheerful.”

“They should have tea some time.”

“Ah yes. The inaugural meeting of the Paranoid Doomsday Predictors of Hogwarts club.”

“Brilliant.” Holly and Scorpius are watching me, going back and forth like this. I shoot them a dirty look but don’t say anything because they are, in fact, correct.

“Shove off you two. Do you think I’d get in trouble for running around as a dog?” I need a distraction and nothing is more distracting than giving in to my animal instincts. I don’t even wait for them to respond before I shift. Sherlock does not look impressed with me. He jumps up into the luggage rack. I stop focusing on everything, letting my inner hound dog come out. Someone opens the door to get into the carriage and I start running.

 

I shivered, walking through the dungeons, though I didn’t know if it was cold or nerves. All through the feast, I couldn’t shake the thought that Harvey was about to break up with me. Of course, I’ve also come up with a few more potential outcomes. He could be dying. Maybe he contracted some terrible disease over the summer and has to tell me he only has three months to live. Maybe he’s dropping out of Hogwarts. Maybe he flunked last year’s exams and he’s being kicked out. Maybe he’s being arrested. Maybe he committed some terrible crime and the ministry is after him. I shake my head. I need to stop overthinking this and just go.

“Parseltongue,” I whisper and the door opens into the common room. I’ve never really liked the Slytherin common room. It’s so dreary and dark, with that stupid green light filtering in everywhere. And of course, all the furniture is a putrid, dark green for Slytherin pride and all that. Personally, I found the whole damn place to be right depressing. And not to mention boring. I mean, there’s not even any bookshelves! The only tables are covered in games of wizard’s chess or Exploding Snap. I personally believe the Ravenclaw common room is best, but of course I could be biased.

“Anybody home?” Harvey whispers. I was so busy assessing the poor design of the common room that I didn’t notice Harvey and his roommates sitting in a corner. Harvey smiled at me, rising from his chair. I steel myself, prepared for the breakup. But instead he crushes his lips to mine as if we were the only people in the room. I flushed pink and pulled away. All I could hear was his friends sniggering in the background.

“Yeah, I’m here,” I whisper back. He catches me looking back towards his friends and gives them a look.

“Shall we go somewhere more private? Somewhere we can catch up or, uh, something?” He smirks. Something in the pit of my stomach drops. I’m not entirely sure why. So, idiotically, I just nod and follow him up the stairs into his dormitory.

The moment we get up there, his lips find mine again. I sink into it, leaning against his chest. He picks me up and I wrap my legs around his waist. I feel us fall back onto a bed, and suddenly he’s on top of me. He leaves a trail of kisses on my nose, my chin, my cheek, my ears, my neck. I let out a small moan, desperate for him to keep kissing me like that. He knows it, too. He kisses my neck again and latches on. I bite my lip, grabbing onto his shoulders. This is when he tries to take my pants off.

With great difficulty, I pull away. “No,” I gasp, breathless. He comes back again, kissing me.

“Please, please just let me do this.” He tries to pull my shirt over my head, kissing me and trying to suck on my neck.

“No,” I say again, firmly. I push him away. He doesn’t look very happy. “Just, not tonight. Not now, yeah? Why don’t you tell me about your trip? How was your summer?” I ask him. He just rolls his eyes and starts kissing me again. Within seconds, I’m pushing his hands away from my zipper. He gets rougher this time, trying to force my hands away.

“Just stop fighting,” he growls, kissing me harder. “Just let me do this.” I stand up, no longer as eager for him to kiss me.

“No,” I say firmly, again. I wrap my arms around my chest.  He sighs heavily and throws his hands up in the air.

“Don’t you want me?” He asks, pulling his shirt off. I bite my lip and force my eyes away from his chest. He is very, very toned. Six pack, rippling pectorals and all. He almost looks airbrushed.

“I don’t know if I’m ready to, uh, well, to take that step,” I say. He narrows his eyes and mumbles something. “What?” I ask sharply.

“I said ‘will you ever be ready?’” He responds angrily. I narrow my eyes at him.

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you always say that. That you’re not ready. Well frankly, Rose, I’m getting pretty bloody sick of waiting around for you.” Without another word, I turn and walk down the stairs. When I get to the common room, he shouts for me to wait.

“Just come back. We can talk, really talk,” he begs. I hesitate for a moment, then I remember the look on his face when I said I wasn’t ready. I shake my head, then remember I left my jumper upstairs. He had pulled that off before he tried to get my shirt off.

“I’m going to get my jumper,” I tell him. “Don’t follow me.” I slowly start up the stairs, only half a flight up when I hear his friends call out to him.

“I’m taking it that you didn’t do it then?” someone sniggers. It sounds like Harry Oswald, a particularly cruel, particularly ugly boy. I pause on the steps, silently summoning my jumper.

“Of course not. You’re running out of time mate. You’ll lose your twenty galleons if you don’t get a move on,” someone else adds. Twenty galleons? I’m not liking the sounds of this conversation.

“Yeah, yeah, I have a week left in the bet. You guys know Harvey Smith always gets his girl. I’ll hit her with my, uh, special charm, if you know what I mean, and she’ll be begging me to shag her right in the Entrance Hall,” Harvey says. I can hear the stupid, cocky smirk on his face. I feel sick to my stomach. Without thinking, I storm into the common room.

“What the hell are you talking about?” I ask him. His eyes widen, but he quickly falls back into a smirk.

“Aw, what? Did poor little Rose think she actually meant something?” Harvey says cruelly.

“Yeah, we made him a bet that he couldn’t get the prude of Hogwarts, Saint Rose the perpetual virgin to spread her legs. We gave him nine months,” Harry says. My heart drops to the floor. We started going out about nine months ago. The whole time, it was all for some stupid bet.

“You upset, Rose?” Harvey leans back in his chair, smirking again. “If you want, we can have some fun upstairs. I hear that it boosts the dopamine levels in the brain, the pleasure drug. I could pleasure you all night long, if you like.” I feel a churning in my stomach, like I’m going to throw up. I drop my sweater to the floor and walk towards him, not entirely sure what I’m planning on doing.

His friends start howling as I straddle him on the chair. I shove my tongue down his throat, kissing him harder than I ever have before. Just as I start to feel him getting, shall we say, excited, I pull away. I bite his lip, pulling him with me. Then, I abruptly stand up, leaving him in the chair, and he clearly wants more. I lean down, real close to his face.

“I would have been worth the wait,” I whisper, my voice deep and husky. His cheeks redden and I slap him across the face once, just for good measure, before turning on my heel and walking out. I grab my jumper as I go. I only turn around when I hold open the door. His friends are all staring at me, jaws open. Harvey is desperately trying to regain his composure and come up with a good comeback. I smirk at his friends, raising one eyebrow. As I slam the door, I hear Harvey finally sputter out, “Fat cow.” I don’t even dignify that with a response, slamming the door behind me. I hurry out of the dungeons, racing up the stairs.

It isn’t until I reach the Ravenclaw tower, standing outside the knocker, when the tears begin to fall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Still looking for a beta if anyone wants to read over things for me? Let me know what you think! Comments are always appreciated, positive, negative or neutral


	5. Beginnings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I’m a very ugly crier.  
> I’m one of those people who doesn’t cry often, but when I do it’s not a pretty sight. Snot runs out my nose like a river. My eyes puff up so that I can barely see. The tears don’t stop, they just keep going. I’m gasping for air, unable to breathe. I knock once on the door, desperate to get into the safety of my bed. Nothing bad can happen in my bed.

Chapter 5: Beginnings

  
  


I’m a very ugly crier.

I’m one of those people who doesn’t cry often, but when I do it’s not a pretty sight. Snot runs out my nose like a river. My eyes puff up so that I can barely see. The tears don’t stop, they just keep going. I’m gasping for air, unable to breathe. I knock once on the door, desperate to get into the safety of my bed. Nothing bad can happen in my bed.

 _“What is the meaning of life?”_ the musical voice asks. I just keep sobbing. I can’t think of a single reason why I should be alive. Actually, that’s a lie. There’s Scorp and Holly and Sherlock. Plus my parents and Hugo and my whole family. But that’s not really the meaning of life.

“There is none,” I reply hoarsely, choking out through the sobs. The door doesn’t open. I groan. “The meaning of life is to get out with as few emotional scars as possible,” I try again.

 _“Acceptable,”_ the voice shrugs, “ _but not particularly optimistic.”_

“I don’t bloody care,” I growl as I pass through the door. Holly and Scorpius are waiting in the common room, probably hoping to ask me about Harvey. Taking a look at my face, they say nothing. Scorpius just opens his arms and I collapse into him with a wail.

He doesn’t say anything, just holds me, rocking back and forth. Holly rubs soothing circles onto my back. They just let me cry until I’m literally all cried out. I’m hyperventilating, gasping for air and trying to force more tears out but there’s nothing left. I try to stop hyperventilating, and I slow my breathing back down to normal. I hiccup a few times before I speak.

“It was all a bet,” I whisper, crawling off of Scorpius and onto the couch. “Our entire relationship. A wager to try and have sex with me.” Holly gasps. Scorpius’ face darkens.

“Bloody hell,” Holly mutters.

“I’ll kill him,” Scorpius adds.

“He laughed at me. He told me… he called me… he called me ‘the prude of Hogwarts.’ Called me… ‘Saint Rose, the perpetual virgin.’ ‘Fat cow.’ He.. he was… he tried to,” I stutter, unable to speak.

“Relax Rosie,” Holly whispers. “You don’t have to tell us right now. Or ever, if you don’t want. Just relax.” I can’t relax. I start breathing heavy, hyperventilating. Suddenly, I start crying again, sobbing. I bury my head into Holly and I hear Scorp cast muffliato on the staircases. I suppose I don’t want to wake the entire house of Ravenclaw.

“Breathe with me,” she whispers. I feel her chest rise and fall. “In… and out. That’s good. In… and out.” I focus on matching her breathing, until I feel calm again. I sit up and stare at the fire. The flame licks the logs, leaving scorch marks wherever it goes. We say nothing. I devise metaphors. Harvey Smith is a flame, destroying everything, full of heat, passion, lust and destruction. I am a log. And I have gotten too close to the flame.

“Now what?” I whisper.

“Now,” Scorpius proclaims as he walks back through the entrance, arms burdened with food. I hadn’t even noticed he left. “Now we eat our feelings.”

“Impressive haul Malfoy,” Holly grins. I smile weakly and pick up a Cauldron Cake. I eat it without tasting it. Then, I move onto a carton of ice cream.

“I guess the kitchen’s House Elves know how to treat a broken heart,” I say drily. I manage to forget about Harvey for a few moments as we laugh and pass around food. I’m spooning some chocolate ice cream into my mouth when I remember. Fat cow, he had hissed. It plays on a loop in my head.

_Fat cow. Fat cow. Fat cow. Fat cow. Fat cow. Rose Weasley is a fat cow. Who would want to date a fat cow? Fat cow. Prude of Hogwarts. Fat cow. Did you actually think you meant something? Fat cow._

I jump up, throwing the ice cream to the floor. I feel nauseous, and I pull away. I wrap my arms around my knees, sinking back to the ground. I stare back at the flames. Scorpius and Holly look concerned, but before they get a chance to speak, there’s a tapping at the window. A large barn owl sits waiting. Scorpius opens the window and the owl flutters over to me. It drops a red envelope onto my lap then flies back out the window.

“What’s that?” Scorp asks. I shrug. It’s not a Howler. It would have burst into flames or started yelling by now. My name is printed in swirling, loopy handwriting. _Rose Weasley_ , it reads, _Ravenclaw Tower, Hogwarts._ I open the letter.

 

_My Dearest Rose,_

_Oh my, how you've grown over these years. I never tire of seeing your smiling face every day. I must tell you that you have grown into a beautiful woman. I feel it may be time for us to meet again, in person. I hope to see you soon._

_All my love,_

_Me_

 

I tip the envelope over and a few photographs fall out. I cock my head, confused, and look through them. They’re muggle photos; they’re not moving. Each and every one is a photo of me. Me as a toddler, on a playground with other muggle children. Me on my first day of primary school, walking into the building. Me, eleven years old, in Diagon Alley for the first time, walking out of Ollivander’s. Me, Holly and Scorp at Holly’s place one summer, walking down the street. Me, Holly and Scorp at Malfoy Manor, throwing a Quaffle around in the air. Me, Holly and Scorp just outside the Burrow. It must be from this summer because I can see the tent in the background, just beginning to rise. Most startling was me, Holly and Scorp, running on our way to the muggle caterers as animals.

“What the hell is this?” Scorpius asks, looking at the photos over my shoulder. Holly is reading the letter, squinting her eyes in confusion.

“Probably just a prank. James being stupid or something,” I say uncertainly.

“Why would James have muggle photos of you as a kid? This is creepy, Rose,” Holly points out.

“Yeah, maybe we should take to someone. Headmaster Flitwick, or Professor Swan, or even Professor Longbottom. He’s your parents’ friend right?” Scorpius suggests.

“Thanks, Scorp, but I’m not sure I want to do anything about this just yet. Can we, maybe, sleep on it?” I say, punctuating it with a yawn. I lay my head back on the couch, putting my feet on Scorp’s stomach. He shifts, making himself more comfortable. Holly comes and lays her head on my stomach. She summons a blanket and we fall asleep this way, all tangled up on the couch, watching a dying fire.

 

By breakfast the next morning, the news has spread all over the school like wildfire. Rose Weasley was dumped because she wouldn’t put out. As one might imagine, my cousins, particularly James and Albus, are furious. They’re raring to go, ready to curse Harvey into oblivion, if I asked. Scorpius is ready to give him a good old-fashioned beating, ‘muggle-style’ he said. But I don’t want that. I just want to disappear; I want everyone to forget. It’s a damn shame that I can’t obliviate the whole school.

“Hey ginger-weasel,” Alfie Clark, a Hufflepuff in Hugo’s year calls out. He’s rather cruel, particularly to girls that he deems ugly or unworthy. Hugo has come to me quite a few times with black-eyes he’s gotten from Clark, defending some first year or another. “I heard you got dumped because you wouldn’t put out.” Scorpius starts to get up, but I just put a hand on his arm.

“If that’s the way he wants to tell it, so be it. But let me tell you Alfie Clark, that’s not what happened,” I reply calmly. Alfie, the evil little git, looks intrigued.

“So, uh, what did happen?”

“Well, there were a number of reasons I dumped him. Which would you like to hear? That he’s a lying, cheating piece of scum? Or that he just couldn’t get it up?” I smirk and Alfie grins, off to tell the entire school. How that boy is not in Slytherin, I will never know.

“Is that true Rose?” Holly asks, giggling. I grin slyly at her.

“The first part is,” I shrug. “But in the end, he definitely got it up for me. Too bad he just couldn’t get it down.” We burst out laughing.

“You’ll have to tell us that story when we get back up to the common room,” Scorpius grins. “Good thing today is a Saturday and we don’t have any classes.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” I said, spooning a load of eggs on my plate. Harvey walked into the Great Hall just then. A few people laughed at his arrival. Clearly Alfie has been making his rounds. He smirks as he sees me. I just raise one eyebrow and stare him down. He shrugs and turns away, walking to the Slytherin table.

“I’ve, uh, lost my appetite,” I say quietly, pushing my plate away. _Fat cow,_ he hisses in my head.

“Just wait a moment, please? I just wanna finish my pancakes,” Scorpius says with a mouth full of food. I nod and we sit for a moment in comfortable silence.

“Rose!” I hear a voice call out. My cousin Lily comes running over, her red hair pulled back into a neat plait. She squeezes herself in between Holly and I on the bench, gripping my hand.

“Hey Lils,” I grin at her. “What’s up?” She shifts guiltily.

“I sort of, well, I was writing home and I kind of mentioned to mum the rumor I heard about you. She’s going to write to your mum, probably, I mean, knowing her. Or maybe she’ll just, sort of, come here herself and kick his arse. Or maybe, well-”

“Lily Luna Potter, what the hell did you tell her,” I growl through gritted teeth. “What the hell did you do?”

“It just sort of slipped,” she says quietly.

“How does it _‘just sort of slip’_ when it’s a BLOODY LETTER. What is it with you Potters? Always meddling,” I grumbled. Lily just shrugged.

“Our dad did save the whole world. I guess it’s a family thing- we feel responsible for everyone.” She grins cheekily, but she knows I love her too much to stay mad for long. But she also knows to stay out of my way while I am mad. She jumps up from the table and goes to sit at the Hufflepuff table with her friends.

“I could kill that girl sometimes,” I mutter, standing up. Holly and Scorpius walk out with me and we start up the staircase. “Meddling Potters. Can’t stand them. First they’ve gotta save the bloody world. Then get all up in my business. Don’t they know when to leave well enough alone?” Without thinking much about it, my grumblings took me to the library.

“Yeah, yeah, Potters are idiots. The whole lot of ‘em,” Scorpius says finally, leading me over to our table on the third floor of the library. It’s nestled in a back corner, and we all converge around it. “Are you going to tell us that story you mentioned in the Great Hall? About Harvey? That Alfie Clark is currently spreading to every student in the school?” I blush.

“Oh,” I say, “that.” I give them all the dirty details, leaving almost nothing out. I tell them everything from the moment he greeted me in the common room to when I left. The only thing I left out was how Harvey called me a fat cow. If I could help it, I would never heard those words again, at least, not out loud. Scorp and Holly are a lovely audience, gasping, cursing and blushing in all the right places.

“Please, just let me jinx him,” Scorpius begs. “No one will ever know it was me.” I sigh, shaking my head.

“Oh, let it go Scorp,” Holly sighs, putting a hand on his arm. I look up to thank her, but the look she’s giving Scorpius doesn’t exactly leave me with warm and fuzzy feelings. They’re plotting. I don’t have time to stew on this as an owl pops in, my parents’ owl, specifically. Henrietta is a large tawny owl with big eyes. She holds out a letter and waits for me to detach it and a small package. Scorpius, always one to spoil any pet, slips her a piece of toast he had brought from breakfast.

 

_Dear Rose,_

_I’m so sorry dear. I heard you and Harvey broke up. If you need anything, even just someone to talk to, I’m just an owl away. Or even just floo home for a moment. Ron wants me to tell you that Harvey is an idiot, and if you’d like he could hex him into oblivion. Not that I’m condoning that. I’d recommend talking to me, or Holly, or Scorpius, or Hugo, or even your father. Don’t hex him. That’s a bad idea. (Your father wants you to know he disagrees, but it’s still a bad idea). Anyways, we love you. We’re sorry. Eat some chocolate. I’ve found it helps a broken heart._

_Much love,_

_Mum and Dad_

 

I sigh, opening the package. They’ve sent a pound of Honeyduke’s chocolate, my favorite. I take a bite and sigh. It’s so good. _Fat cow_ , he hisses. I drop the chocolate and put it away, saving it for later.

“That reminds me, we have to bring that creepy letter to someone,” Scorpius says as he watched Henrietta fly away. I made a face at him, scrunching my nose up.

“I’d rather just chuck the thing in the fire and forget about it,” I tell him honestly.

“Well that’s too damn bad, because we are going to the Headmaster. He can decide if they’re worth our time or not. If he says they’re not, then I promise we’ll chuck them in the fire,” Scorpius says, dragging me up by my arm.

“But, but,” I splutter, “I don’t have the letter or the photos with me.” Scorpius looks smug. I hate it when he looks smug.

“I have them right here,” he said, pulling the letters out of his pocket. He leads me out of the library, Holly trailing close behind. I really hate it when he looks smug.


	6. The Letter Brigade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Professor, I really don’t think this is necessary. It’s probably just a prank. Someone’s idea of a joke,” I plead. We are sitting in the office, the letters and photographs splayed across the desk. All of the portraits are watching us. I squirm in my chair, uncomfortable under the scrutiny.   
> “Well Miss Weasley, I’d rather we know for certain and put it to rest. Ease an old man’s mind, eh?” the Headmaster winks.

** Chapter 6: The Letter Brigade **

  
  


“Professor, I really don’t think this is necessary. It’s probably just a prank. Someone’s idea of a joke,” I plead. We are sitting in the office, the letters and photographs splayed across the desk. All of the portraits are watching us. I squirm in my chair, uncomfortable under the scrutiny.

“Well Miss Weasley, I’d rather we know for certain and put it to rest. Ease an old man’s mind, eh?” the Headmaster winks.

“Yes, listen to you elders, girl. In my day, we wouldn’t have dreamed of questioning our headmaster. When I was headmaster, my students were obedient and loyal,” one of the portraits said snidely. The portrait of headmaster Dumbledore chuckled lightly.

“Ah, Phineas, how times have changed. I have found it better to have students question me occasionally. It develops a questioning, curious individual who is no less loyal than your students were,” he says wisely. Flitwick nods.

“Now, anyways, I shall perform a few tests, look these over and whatnot. I can get back to you within about a week. Don’t worry my dear, I am bound to get to the bottom of it. If you get another letter do not hesitate to bring it to me or your Head of House. I trust, Mr. Malfoy and Miss Brookes, that you will hold her to this?” He peers over his glasses at them. They nod.

“Absolutely, sir,” Scorpius says. I step on his foot, grinding my heel into his toes. He grimaces, but says nothing.

“Dear, I do believe you are hurting Mr. Malfoy,” Dumbledore says, grinning. I frown at him and move my foot.

“Thank you for you assurances, Professor, but I doubt I’ll get any more letters. This is probably nothing.” He waves a hand.

“Yes, yes, and if you’re right I give you full permission to gloat and tell me ‘I told you so,’ but for now we will check everything out.”

“Professor, before we go, precisely what tests will you be performing?” Holly asks.

“A few of them are spells that will test for the magical signature. A magical signature is like a fingerprint: unique to each witch or wizard. If the sender used a spell to write this, or when sending it, or even just to seal the envelope, we’ll have his or her signature. With the signature, we can trace the sender and find out who it is. If there is no magical signature, I can send it to the Auror’s office and they’ll do some other tests, such as actual fingerprinting. They can also attempt to trace the owl used to send it. You say it was a barn owl?”

“Yeah, nothing spectacular. No strange markings. Barn owls are one of the most common breeds of owl in all of Europe. Probably pretty hard to trace,” Holly informs him.

“Well, if it was a prank, as you say, then either I or the aurors should be able to find the sender. Now, I must ask that you show yourselves out. Good day kids,” he says. I allow Scorpius and Holly to go in front of me, starting down the stairs. “Oh, Miss Weasley?” Flitwick calls. I turn back. “I do hope, for your sake, that I’m wrong.”

“Thanks, sir?” I say uncertainly, quickly turning to chase my friends back down the stairs. “Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, you stop right there,” I shout. He turns around, but Holly keeps going. “You too Holly Amber Brookes. Get back here.” She rolls her eyes as she turns and walks back to Scorpius.

“Yes mum,” she said sarcastically.

“Is there a problem Sergeant?” Scorpius shouts, standing straight up at attention, acting like a soldier.

“Shut up. Just shut up. Can we just talk, just for a moment? Please, a conversation is all I ask of you,” I say, deflating slightly. Holly smirks.

“Well, a conversation requires talking and you just told me to shut up.” I shoot her a look. “Okay, okay, let’s talk.”

“Do you guys think that I should have been involved in the decision on whether or not to tell Flitwick? Do you guys think that you should have asked before taking my letter? Do you guys think you should have consulted me at all?” I ask them, my voice shaking. Scorpius and Holly exchange guilty looks.

“We’re just trying to protect you is all,” Holly mutters. “You can be a bit, er, stubborn. You only see what you want to see. We thought we were helping.”

“I’m not stubborn,” I insist. Holly smirks.

“See?” she says. “I’m sorry, and I love you, but you are incredibly stubborn. We just want to make sure that this won’t hurt you.”

“We just care,” Scorpius says quietly. I soften, no longer able to stay mad at them. Stupid, caring idiots.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, I care about you too. Now, let’s go outside and enjoy the nice weather. Maybe get a fly in before the Quidditch tryouts next week?” I smile at them. “Race up to the dorms?” I challenge. Grinning, we start running. I shift, getting a lead with my four legs. I bark happily when I hear Scorpius protest.

 

“Oh Rosie,” she sing-songs. I groan. I love my cousin Dom, I really do, but she can be a bit… much. She’s a fixer; any problem that occurs, she will be guaranteed to try and fix it, probably with tea (splashed with firewhiskey), and a good old therapy session. Had she been around for the Second Wizard War, she would have served Voldemort a pot of Earl Grey and talked about how he felt, how all that time in the muggle orphanage made him feel.

“Yes, Dom?” I ask, sighing internally. She flounces down next to me in the library, and I can’t help but feel jealous. With her long, golden, shimmering hair and her perfect complexion, she always looks fantastic. Even when sinking into a beanbag chair in the library, she looks graceful and poised.

“I just wanted to talk to you. After all, I did hear what happened. I wish you had told me! I could have helped you,” she implores.

“Helped me with what?” Breaking up with Harvey was a split second thing. Was I supposed to send an owl to Dom while he was trying to get in my pants?

“The problems you and Harvey had been having! People don’t break up in just one moment. It’s not exactly a split-second thing, honey.” Huh, it wasn’t? “Particularly problems like yours.”

“And what, pray tell, was my problem?” I fold my arms across my chest.

“Well, clearly you had communication issues. You never talked about what you wanted and needed versus what he wanted and needed!”

“You’re right, we didn’t. But he didn’t want to hear about my wants and needs. He knew what he wanted and what he needed, and that was sex. I wasn’t ready, but he was. That was it. We were just in two different places.” Dom stood up and offered me a hand. I still don’t understand how she looked so graceful climbing out of these chairs. Damn genetics. She got Veela genes and I got the dentist genes.

“Let’s go,” she said, hooking her arm through mine. She pulled me out of the library and down the hall, while I struggle to maintain her pace.

“Where are we going?” I ask, but I already know. She’s taking me to the kitchens for a cup of tea.

“I’m taking you to the kitchens for a cup of tea.” Spooky, right? I should talk to Trelawney, find out if I’m a Seer. “We’re going to have a chat.” Before I even have time to come up with a decent excuse or a real protest, she’s pulling me into the kitchen. A small cluster of House Elves come to greet us. Since mum got the Protection of Elf Rights Act signed into legislation, they’ve been treated much better. All of the House-Elves make minimum wage, 6 galleons a week, and on Sundays and Holidays they make time-and-a-half. They have the option to join Elf-labor unions. They can ask for time off. But most of them still love their jobs and are happy to please people. Not happy enough to accept beatings, which are illegal, or punishments of any kind, nor are they licking our boots to please us, but they do like to please. Particularly to the people who are kind to them, such as the daughter of the woman who liberated them.

“It’s Miss Weasley, and Miss Weasley! Oh Misses Weasley, what would you like?” An elf squeaks. I smile down at Pokey, my favorite elf. She always comes to visit me when she cleans Ravenclaw Tower, leaving little presents like chocolate frogs and Bertie Bott’s beans. In return, I give her hand-made sweaters and other little presents. Her big green eyes blink happily up at me.

“Hi Pokey, uh, we were hoping for some tea,” I ask, “if you can get it.”

“And some firewhiskey,” Dom adds. Pokey looks at her disapprovingly. “Hey, don’t look at me like that. I’m of legal age.” Dom turned seventeen last January and threw a huge party in Gryffindor common room. She got drunk off her arse, dancing on tables and making out with some random seventh year. I had one firewhiskey and nearly passed out, I was so dizzy. I guess I’m a bit of a lightweight.

“Is Miss Rose of legal age?” Pokey asks. Another elf brings a tray of tea. I take a cup and hand it to Dom, sipping my own carefully.

“No Pokey, I’ll just stick with the tea. Do you mind if we take this up to the common room?” Dom happily takes a bottle of firewhiskey, ignoring the cup the elf offers her. Before Pokey can answer, she’s pulling me out of the kitchen. “Bye Pokey! See you later,” I call out. I can just barely hear her squeak out a goodbye before the portrait concealing the entrance closes behind us.

 

“So, one splash of whiskey or two?” Dom asks. We sit on her bed in the dormitory and I lean back against the pillow, wrinkling my nose.

“None, thanks. I’m not a big drinker,” I tell her. She sighs and pours a small bit in my teacup anyways. I shake my head and put the cup down.

“Time to talk, Rose,” she says, sipping her firewhiskey/tea. “Tell me, why weren’t you ready?” I shrug. “Don’t you shrug at me. You knew you weren’t ready. Why?”

“Well… uh, I guess it was more that I wasn’t sure. I didn’t know if I really wanted to… you know… with him. I figured I should be completely sure before I take such a big step in a relationship,” I shrug. My cheeks feel warm and I’m positive that my cheeks and ears are flaming red, as they usually are when I’m embarrassed, angry, or upset. Stupid Weasley genes.

“What made you so unsure?”

“I dunno,” I muttered.

“Don’t lie to me,” she sing-songs. “Rose Weasley, you are a girl who runs on logic. You have been thinking through every decision and making pro-con lists since birth. I’m still not convinced you weren’t making them in the womb, deciding whether March fifteen was really the best day to come out or not,” she laughs. I smile weakly at her, knowing she’s right. I love pro-con lists. I even made one with the Sorting Hat when I was eleven.

“Well, I did sort of make a list. In my head, of course, not on paper. That would’ve been mortifying to explain,” I laugh awkwardly.

“So, what are your pros? What made you want to have sex with him?” She doesn’t even blush. I don’t know whether to admire her candor or blush deeper.

“Well, uh… He’s a really fantastic kisser. He know how to.. make me happy,” I say quietly. She raises an eyebrow.

“So he makes you happy… emotionally? physically?” She laughs carelessly.

“Mostly physically. He was never good with the… er… emotional side of things. He’s bloody gorgeous and an unparallelled kisser, but conversation was not his strong suit. Nor were compliments. Or speech.”

“And that was a con,” Dom clarifies. I nod.

“Yeah. I want my first time to be with someone I love. Mentally, emotionally and physically. I don’t want it to be about lust. Nor did I want to be a conquest. Which is all I was to Harv-” I choke for a moment, picturing the disgust on his face when I said no, picturing how it contorted his perfect beauty into something ugly. “To him.” A single tear rolled down my cheek. I angrily took a large gulp of my tea, coughing as the alcohol burned my throat.

“There’s a reason they call it firewhiskey, Rose,” Dom grins.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” I reply, taking another swig. The tea is gone, but I want more. I reach for the firewhiskey bottle.

“Slow down, girl,” Dom laughs. “We still have to talk. You’re hiding something. What else went down? What else did he do to you?” I shake my head.

“What? Finding out my entire relationship was a sham wasn’t enough? Being humiliated wasn’t enough?” The firewhiskey burns through my veins, making me brave, reckless and angry. It’s not directed at Dom, but she’s the nearest target.

“No, that is enough to make you upset. But you’re hiding something. I can tell,” she says softly. She grabs my chin so that I look in her eyes. “Talk to me,” she implores.

“Did I tell you what he called me?” I ask, the tears rolling again. “I’m now the prude of Hogwarts. Saint Rose, the perpetual virgin, the fat cow. The girl who means nothing to anyone.” I start off quiet, but end up shouting, unable to control my anger, my pain. I grab the bottle from Dom and start drinking, ignoring the burn.

“Rose, that’s terrible,” she whispers, pulling the bottle away from my mouth. I maintain a grip on it, but stop drinking. I cradle it in my lap. “You have to know he said those things to be cruel. He said them because he was embarrassed that you rejected him in front of his friends. He was hurting and he wanted you to hurt. He attacked you where he knew it would hurt the most. But it doesn’t make anything he said true,” she explains. I lean my head against her shoulder.

“Just because you say it isn’t true, doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt,” I slur. I raise the bottle to my lips, drinking like a hungry newborn with its mother, latching onto the bottle. Before I know it, the bottle is gone. It wasn’t a large bottle, but firewhiskey is strong, and I am weak. The room seems to spin a bit.

“Let’s get you to bed, Rosie,” Dom says gently. She wraps my arm around her shoulder, supporting me around the waist. Walking down the stairs is a difficulty, but when we get to the common room, Al is sitting by the fire, talking with friends.

“Albie! How are you, love?” I call out. His brow furrows and he jumps up. When he reaches us, I muss up his hair. “Did I ever tell you that you look like Harry Potter? Without the scar, of course?”

“Did you get her drunk?” Al hisses at Dom, completely ignoring me. He puts his arm around my other side and we go out the portrait hole.

“It was one bottle! Can I help it that the girl’s a lightweight?” Dom asks. It’s slow work walking me up and down stairs, but luckily Ravenclaw Tower isn’t too far. “It’s cuz she’s so bloody small,” Dom says. “The alcohol goes right through her.”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t have let her drink. She’s only sixteen, and it’s only half three in the afternoon,” Al says. We get to the knocker and they both groan. They’re miserable at answering the knocker’s riddles.

 _“What is love?”_ it asks.

“Love is a sham,” I grumble. “It doesn’t exist.” I can see Dom rolling her eyes.

“Love is, er, never having to say you’re sorry?” Al tries.

 _“Not exactly,”_ the knocker replies.

“Love is a mix of chemicals in the brain?” Dom asks. The door doesn’t move. She stamps her foot in frustration.

“What’s the question?” A squeaky voice asks. A first year boy pops his head around, peering at us. He looks familiar, but I can’t figure out why. He has a heart-shaped face, dark brown eyes and curly brown hair. “I can help,” he says.

 _“What is love?”_ the knocker reminds us.

“Love is the most powerful force in the world,” the boy answers promptly. “It’s the only thing that people would kill for, die for, do anything for. It motivates people to do great things.” He blushes as we regard him with praise. The door opens.

_“Excellent answer,”_ the knocker responds proudly. The boy hops through, Al, Dom and I following awkwardly. There is no one in the common room. Everyone is probably off enjoying the weather. Or in the library. You never know with Ravenclaws. Looking back on it, I have to give Dom and Al credit for getting me up the steps and into bed. I was no help to them. I think at one point, I threw up on Al’s shoes. I have a hazy memory of him sighing and vanishing the mess. At this point, I’m hopeless. They lay me on my side on my dorm bed. Dom covers me with my blue and silver afghan that Mum knitted for me back in first year. Before they leave, Al kisses my forehead and pulls the curtains around my bed. I close my eyes and everything goes dark.


	7. Back to Normal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Classes start on Monday, and everyone is moving on without me. Over the week, fewer and fewer people stare at me when I walk into a room. There’s newer gossip, more entertaining gossip. Alex Finch-Fletchley, a seventh year, was caught kissing Lucille Killarney, a fourth year, by Filch. James and Fred released a niffler in Filch’s office as a start-of-term prank. Alfie Clark and Stanley Lewis, a first year Gryffindor, got into a fist-fight after Alfie insulted Stanley’s twin sister Stacy. Alfie has a black eye and is bruised all over. Stanley has a broken nose, a broken rib and punctured lungs. Alfie has detention until Christmas and put Hufflepuff in negative points. I am still wallowing in the pain of my break-up.

Chapter 7: Back to Normal

  
  


Classes start on Monday, and life moves on.

I just wish it’d move a little faster. People still snicker when they see me in the halls, whispering about Rose the Prude. Others look at me with pity. Poor, poor Rose, the virgin. What a shame. Of course, now that Alfie has spread the rumor about Harvey, he doesn’t have quite as many female admirers. I’ve even heard a few people speculating on whether he was gay or not.

Classes start on Monday, and everyone is moving on without me. Over the week, fewer and fewer people stare at me when I walk into a room. There’s newer gossip, more entertaining gossip. Alex Finch-Fletchley, a seventh year, was caught kissing Lucille Killarney, a fourth year, by Filch. James and Fred released a niffler in Filch’s office as a start-of-term prank. Alfie Clark and Stanley Lewis, a first year Gryffindor, got into a fist-fight after Alfie insulted Stanley’s twin sister Stacy. Alfie has a black eye and is bruised all over. Stanley has a broken nose, a broken rib and punctured lungs. Alfie has detention until Christmas and put Hufflepuff in negative points. I am still wallowing in the pain of my break-up.

On Friday, my roommates finally confront me.

“Rose, sit down,” Holly says softly. I give her a look, but sit down on my bed. All four of my other roommates sit on their beds, facing me.

“We just want to talk to you,” Amy says gently. Her blond hair falls in her face, and her big blue eyes look at me imploringly. Amy is a muggleborn from Glasgow, and I don’t think there’s a mean bone in her body.

“It’s about how you’ve been acting recently,” Jenny Lee adds, a beautiful Asian halfblood. I’d kill for her hair. It’s always so straight, perfectly combed. Mine never looks like that.

“You’ve been moping, and we think it needs to stop,” Kristin says bluntly. She’s probably my least favorite roommate. She’s mean, angry and bitter, but sarcastic and sweet with her friends. Kristin is a bit of an acquired taste, and sometimes I still find myself needing to get acclimated.

“Kristin, be nice. Remember what we talked about,” Nora Karasinski adds. Her mum was Polish, and raised her in a muggle community for years, never telling Nora’s dad that she existed. When her mum died when Nora was nine, she found her dad and moved in with him, in a magical community. Needless to say, it was a shock for her to learn that she wasn’t a complete freak of nature. Nora is the token rebel of our group. She’s really a wonderful girl once you get to know her, but she is rather unapproachable. She’s a metamorphmagus, but doesn’t let many people know. Her hair is always bright pink, with a stripe of blue in the front. Her green eyes are striking, but intimidating. Deep beneath all that, she’s got a good heart.

“If you’re gonna have a bloody intervention, just say it,” I add drily. Holly clears her throat. “You organized this, didn’t you?” She has the good grace to look ashamed.

“We’re just concerned about you. You haven’t been eating. You aren’t participating in class. We know you’re not sleeping. You have to talk about what’s bothering you,” Holly begs. I just shrug.

“What’s there to say? I got dumped. I was humiliated. It’s over.” The girls sigh and stand up.

“Do you remember when I went out with Derek Parker in fourth year? He was a sixth year, and I thought I was in love with him. All he wanted was my body. When I wouldn’t give it, he dumped me loudly and publicly. He threw me out of his dormitory in the middle of the afternoon. Wouldn’t let me put my shirt back on, just threw me out of his room and into the common room, red in the face and half naked, shouting that we were through. I was crushed,” Fiona Delaney tells me. I do remember. She came to us crying, sobbing actually, about how humiliated she was. He left her standing in the middle of the Gryffindor common room in her uniform skirt and a pink lacy bra. “I thought the world would end. I was praying for the floor to swallow me up. I thought the teasing would never end. But it did. People moved on, and so did I. My friends helped me realize that Derek wasn’t worth it. Just like Harvey wasn’t.” I bite my lip.

“And when those seventh year boys were making fun of me because of my size in third year, I thought I would just die. I wanted to die. All day, every day, I heard their insults in my head. It took some work, but I’ve moved past it,” Amy adds. It’s true. In third year, she was a lot bigger. A group of malicious seventh year boys made fun of her, calling her fat. She stopped eating, started working out. I once caught her drinking slimming solution. But then, it stopped. Something, or someone, forced the boys to stop making fun of her. She started eating again, stopped running ten miles a day, started working out a better way, a safer way.

“This is all great. I’m real proud of you for pulling your lives together. But you both just said it takes time. You both said you went through a period of serious depression. You wanted the floor to swallow you up.” I point at Fiona. “And you wanted to die.” I point at Amy. “Either it takes time or it doesn’t. Make up your minds,” I snap.

“We’re not trying to argue with you,” Holly says.

“Maybe I want to argue!” I yell. The girls sigh, and they exchange a glance. As one, they stand up and leave until only Holly remains.

“You wanna argue? Argue with me. Go ahead,” she says, opening her arms and offering herself up. I hesitate, trying to find something to say.

“Why can’t you ever just leave me alone? You’re always meddling!” I shout, finally.

“I meddle because I think I’m helping. Or, at least, I hope I am,” she says calmly.

“Well maybe I don’t want you help! Maybe I just want to wallow for a bit! Is that illegal now?”

“Nope, go on wallowing if you like. But I can’t let you wallow forever. It’s not healthy,” she responds evenly.

“Damn it Holly, why won’t you yell back?” I shriek. She just laughs. “Don’t you laugh at me. Fight back.” I grab her by the shoulders. “Fight back!”

“Rose,” she says softly. Fat cow. You mean nothing.

“Why didn’t you fight back. Why didn’t you fight back?” I shout as the tears start falling. “You should have fought back,” I whisper, more to myself than Holly. I sink to my knees, putting my head on her lap. In case anyone had missed it, I wasn’t talking about Holly anymore.

“You couldn’t fight back. You did what you could, love. You did what you could,” she whispers.

“It wasn’t enough,” I shout.

“You did the best you could under the circumstances. The way I see it, you got a few good jabs in on him too. There was nothing else you could have done. You gotta move on,” she whispers. Slowly, she rubs my back, and I thank God for Holly Brookes. Slowly, I stop crying and look up at Holly.

“I love fighting with you,” I whisper.

 

“Professor,” a voice rings out. I was sitting in Charms, copying down the notes a week later when the knock came at the door. A second year boy stands in the doorway. “The headmaster would like to see Rose Weasley.” I can feel the tips of my ears turning pink. Trying to ignore the stairs, I follow the second year out the door. He tells me the password and leaves me at the staircase leading to Flitwick’s office.

“Come in,” he squeaks, before I can knock. “Miss Weasley, I wanted to update you on the status of the letter. I found a magical trace, but I couldn’t find a record of it. So I sent it off to the Auror’s office. They matched the trace to a criminal they’ve been tracking.” My heart stops. That letter wasn’t a prank. It wasn’t from James. It was from a criminal. A stalker. “He’s a rogue werewolf from the remnants of Fenfir Greyback’s old pack.” My stomach drops.

A werewolf has been watching me since I was a kid. Not just any werewolf. One of Greyback’s werewolves. He’s the one who mauled Dom’s dad and gave him those scars. He was ruthless, a murderer who bit kids for fun. And one of his lackeys is stalking me. He’s been watching me all this time, and I never knew. I feel it may be time for us to meet again, he wrote. See you soon. I feel sick to my stomach. I spin around, away from Flitwick’s desk and throw up on the ground. A few of the portraits gasp. The one that Dumbledore had called Phineas shouts “The nerve!” Without a word, Flitwick vanishes the mess.

“The auror assigned to your case is due to come so that they can explain this all to you. Is there something I can get you. A glass of water, perhaps?” he asks gently. I nod and he conjures a glass before I even finish the gesture. We sit in a comfortable silence for a moment as I sip the water, trying to get the revolting taste out of my mouth. Though we say nothing, my mind is spinning. How long has he been watching me? What is he going to do to me? Suddenly, Flitwick’s fire glows green and my parents tumble out.

“Oh Rosie,” Mum wailed, throwing her arms around me. I don’t move for a moment, still trying to process this turn of events. My dad comes and stands behind me, putting his hand on my shoulder. Woodenly, I put my arms around my mother, my mind still spinning. What kind of crimes has he committed? Is he as bad as Greyback was? Why is he doing this?

“Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, the Aurors are on their way.”

“Who has the case,” my dad asked. He’s probably miffed that he doesn’t have it. He is an auror, after all. One of the best, too, I’d say, along with Uncle Harry. Before anyone could respond, the fire flared up again. Uncle Harry stepped out, quickly followed by two more aurors. One was a man, tall and imposing with short brown hair and cold gray eyes. The woman who followed had long blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, green eyes and was of medium build, but her posture and the way she held herself implied that she could handle herself in any fight, physical or magical.

“You have the case, Harry?” Mum asked. Ron’s face started to turn red.

“You had this case. You knew and didn’t tell us?” He growled. Uncle Harry held his hands up.

“I’m not the auror on the case. They brought me here because I’m her uncle. I heard them mention the ‘Weasley case’ and invited myself along,” he said quickly. Dad nodded once, tightly, then rounded on the other aurors.

“Smith, Jensen, so it was you who didn’t tell me?” He draws himself up to his full height, expecting them to cower. Though the man, whom he referred to as Jensen, did shrink back slightly. The woman just met his gaze.

“Just following protocol, sir. You’re too close to the case, and you can’t be allowed to work on it.” Her eyes met mine and she bit her lip, looking back at my dad. “And I’m sorry about that, sir, but the best chance for your daughter is to let objective minds work on her case. We can keep you updated with meetings like these,” she offers. My dad runs his hand through his hair and lets out a huff. Finally, he nods.

“Alright. Alright, then give me an update. Tell me what the bloody hell is going on. All we know is that our daughter is in danger. That’s all you people said. I need to know what’s going on,” he rumbled. Mum put a hand on his arm. He closed his mouth and sat back down. I put my head on his shoulder and he wrapped one arm around me.

“Miss Weasley, I’d like to introduce myself. My name is Amanda Smith, and this is my partner Samuel Jensen. We’re the lead investigators on your case. We were the ones who ran the tests, and we are the ones who will be searching for the perpetrator. Do you have any questions now before we begin?” Questions? I have a million questions. First and foremost, what the hell is happening.

“Breathe, Rose,” my mum whispers to me. I release a breath I hadn’t even realized I had been holding. I took a deep breath, trying to figure out which question I should ask first.

“Who, exactly, is the perpetrator? How did you find him? What tests did you perform?” I take a breath and hold it, waiting for them to answer.

“Let me tell you a little bit about the tests we perform. The vestigium magia test is a spell, a complex spell that we use. It draws out the magical trace left on an object or in an area. It’s similar to muggle policemen dusting a safe for fingerprints after a robbery. I’m sure Professor Flitwick has informed you of the nature of magical fingerprints.” I nod. “Well, then you know that each is unique to an individual. The Auror department has a database of these traces. Some come from the former and current prisoners at Azkaban. Others are drawn from active cases in which magic was used to commit a crime, such as a confundus charm used on a bank guard in a robbery.” Mum turns pink and clears her throat.

“So, you found this person in the database? So you know who it is?” I leaned forward in my chair.

“Yes and no,” Jensen replies. “We have matched the trace to an entry in our database. Unfortunately, it’s been matched to the trace on several open cases. We do not know exactly who this man is.”

“Well,” dad says, raising up in his chair. Mum hissed his name, rebuking him, but he just waved her away. “What do you know?”

“We know that he’s male,” Smith says. “He’s a werewolf, and he’s one of the remnants from Greyback’s old pack. Some of them still banded together, even after the war. They split into a few smaller groups, but tried to keep Greyback’s ways. Most just raise wolves to be separate from wizards. The pack that our guy is in -they call themselves the ‘Blood Cub’ pack- are actually known for biting children, like Greyback used to do.”

“If he’s from Greyback’s old pack, exactly how old is he?” Mum says, a look of disgust on her face. I have a sudden image of a middle aged man/wolf loping towards me, teeth bared. I shudder.

“Our estimates put him in his late twenties. Most likely, he was a child when he was bitten, a toddler. They took him and raised him in the ways of Greyback, even after he was gone. So, though he may not be old enough to personally remember Greyback, he probably worships him.”

“What crime did he commit?” I croak. “Why is he in your database?” I grip mum’s hand, preparing myself for the answer.

“He was involved in a string of child abductions. He would cast stunning spells on the parents or petrify them while his comrades would take the child. Each time, they would send the parents a letter about a month later, certifying that he had been bitten and was a werewolf.”

“How many times?” I ask. Smith just looks at me. Dad looks confused. “How many children did he take?” I clarify. I don’t want to look at anyone and I find myself making eye contact with the portrait of Dumbledore. He peers down at me from behind his spectacles.

“That we know of? At least seventeen.” My breath gets caught in my throat. Seventeen children were stolen. And the man responsible is now after me.

“How are you going to protect her?” Mum asks, looking at Flitwick.

“Constant vigilance?” I suggest, trying to make a joke. No one seems amused. To be honest, I’m not all that amused either.

“We have been authorized to station aurors at the school and at the Shrieking Shack, in case someone tries to use that as an entrance onto school grounds,” Jensen pipes up. Dad nods.

“I can get a team together to work on strengthening the wards around the school so that no one can trespass, by magical or muggle means,” Uncle Harry adds. I had almost forgotten he was there.

“Miss Weasley, we also ask for your cooperation on this matter. If any more letters arrive, we need them. We ask you not to leave school grounds without notifying Professor Flitwick or an auror. But rest assured, we will catch this man.”

“Do you have a picture of him?” I ask. “I want to know what he looks like so I can know what to watch out for.” Smith bites her lip, unsure of what to say. Slowly she gets a small piece of parchment out of her paper. She hands it to me and I roll it up without looking at it, putting it in my pocket. I want to do that alone, later.

“Are there any more questions you have for the aurors, Mr. or Mrs Weasley? Or Mr. Potter,” Flitwick asks. “Before I speak with them about the specific measures to be taken?”

“I have just one more question,” I say softly. “Why me?”


	8. Another Letter

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Why is this guy so fixated on me?” I repeat. No one answers me. Finally, the portrait of Dumbledore speaks.  
> “If I may? I believe the better question is ‘why not you?’” He says simply.   
> “We don’t know why he’s chosen you. I am certain that will become clearer to us further on in the investigation,” Smith jumps in.  
> “Dumbledore, what the hell does that mean?” Dad asked, ignoring Auror Smith.  
> “I mean, Mr. Weasley, that this could have happened to anyone. Why would it not happen to her? Oh, we don’t know his reasoning, his logic. All we know is that it is happening to your daughter, but I have no doubt that Filius will put her safety at top priority. We cannot trouble ourselves with the why at this moment. We must, instead, ask how. As in, how are we going to protect her?” He says calmly.

**Chapter 8: Another Letter**

  
  


“Why is this guy so fixated on me?” I repeat. No one answers me. Finally, the portrait of Dumbledore speaks.

“If I may? I believe the better question is ‘why not you?’” He says simply.

“We don’t know why he’s chosen you. I am certain that will become clearer to us further on in the investigation,” Smith jumps in.

“Dumbledore, what the hell does that mean?” Dad asked, ignoring Auror Smith.

“I mean, Mr. Weasley, that this could have happened to anyone. Why would it not happen to her? Oh, we don’t know his reasoning, his logic. All we know is that it is happening to your daughter, but I have no doubt that Filius will put her safety at top priority. We cannot trouble ourselves with the why at this moment. We must, instead, ask _how_. As in, how are we going to protect her?” He says calmly.

“An excellent question,” Uncle Harry crows.

“Sir, may I go? Do I need to be here for the, um, specifics? I think I just...uh… I need a moment to wrap my head around this,” I whisper, standing up.

“Take all the time you need, dear. You’re excused from the rest of your classes for the day,” Flitwick says kindly.

“No, no, I have to go to class. I’ll just...er… take a few minutes to breathe then go back. Yeah, so, um, bye Mum, Dad.” I start to walk away, but Mum grabs my arm.

“You are not to go to class.” Who is this, and what has she done with Hermione Granger? “I want you to go to the hospital wing.”

“No, no mum. I’m...uh… I’m fine. I just need a moment. Just one moment, is all,” I pant. “I can do this. I’ll send you… a letter or something,” I insist.

“Miss Weasley, you don’t seem fine,” Auror Jensen says uncertainly. There’s a knock at the door. Professor Flitwick invites the knocker in.

“Ah, Mr. Malfoy. To what to I owe the pleasure? As I’m sure you can see, this is not the best time,” Flitwick squeaks.

“I came to bring Rose her bags. Is everything alright?” He holds my school bag on his shoulder, peering at me uncertainly.

“Scorpius, dear, this is good timing on your part. Can you take my daughter to the hospital wing?” I shoot mum a look, but she’s focused on Scorpius.

“Of course,” he says immediately. He holds out a hand to help me out of my seat. I disregard it.

“Don’t let my daughter’s stubborn tendencies keep her from Madame Pomfrey,” Dad adds, giving Scorpius a look. Scorpius smirks.

“Sir, I don’t think there’s anyone more stubborn than a Malfoy.” Without another word, I walk out. Scorpius follows behind me.

“I...er… I don’t need to go to the, uh, hospital wing. I just need a moment.” Scorpius says nothing, continuing to dog my steps. “Alone, please,” I add.

“Nope.” I bite my lip and stop responding to him. My mind buzzes with all of the information I just received. They swoop around, all of my unanswered questions stinging me, repeating themselves. It’s a chorus of angry bees and paranoid fears.

_Who is this guy? How dangerous is he? Can he get into Hogwarts? How has he been following me all this time. All this time, he’s been watching me. When I thought I was alone, he was there, with a camera. Even now, he may be watching. I’m never alone. I have to move. I have to get away from him. Why is he doing this? Why won’t he leave me alone?_

“Rose, seriously let’s go. You’re breathing’s gone all weird. If you don’t answer me, I’m going to carry you up to the hospital wing,” Scorpius is saying. It sounds like I’m underwater and he’s standing on the shore, trying to get my attention.

“I just need… a moment… to catch my breath. It’s all, er, a tad… overwhelming,” I respond. I look up at him and find three tall, blond, attractive blokes looking back at me. Did Scorpius not tell me he has two identical brothers? Oh damn. “Scorp, I don’t feel so good,” I whisper before it all goes dark.

 

“They overwhelmed her, Hermione. She’s a child; she shouldn’t have to deal with all of this,” a deep, male voice grumbles. In the back of my mind, I make a connection and realize it’s my father talking.

“She deserved to know, Ronald. Perhaps they told her too much all at once, but she’s always had this problem. This isn’t a sudden occurrence. I’m just glad Scorpius was there to catch her,” mum responds. There’s a pause. “Should we take her out of school? Keep her home until they find this… man.” No, they can’t do that. “Is she awake?” Did I say that out loud?

“Rosie, are you awake?” Dad whispers.

“Sort of,” I groan. The light burns my retinas, and I squint against it. When I can see, I find myself in the hospital wing. Mum and Dad are sitting by my bedside, leaning over me. Before anyone can speak, Madame Pomfrey bustles up with a young, blonde witch behind her, holding a clipboard.

“Ah, Miss Weasley, you’re awake. Good. This is my trainee, Stella Moore; that’s Madam Moore to you. She’ll be training under me so that she can take over me within the next few years. Now, tell me: how are we feeling today?” I groan again.

“Well, I don’t know how you’re feeling, but I feel like hippogriff dung.” Mum clucks her tongue at me, but I ignore it. “My head hurts, my vision’s all wonky and I feel like a truck ran over me. My lungs feel like they’re filled with water, or like they’re being restricted by an iron fist or something. In short, I’m miserable.” She waves her wand over my body and I start to feel hot, cold, tingly, numb and a thousand other sensations.

“Do you remember what happened?” As she waves her wand, Madam Moore starts writing things down on her clipboard.

“I remember being in the Headmaster’s office. I was walking down with Scorpius and I got dizzy. I couldn’t breathe and then everything went dark.”

“You had another attack,” Mum supplies. I wrinkled my nose in distaste. These bloody panic attacks have been plaguing me for years. My therapist thinks that my parents’ celebrity status might be the main cause. Constantly having a camera or a Quick Quotes Quill shoved in my face is a little panic-making. I think I’m just a paranoid crazy. But, of course, she has the degree, not me.

“You said Scorpius was with me, that he caught me. Was there anyone else who was around?” My face heats up at the prospect of the new rumors. Rose Weasley, the fainting prude of Hogwarts.

“No, classes were in session, so the halls were empty,” Madam Pomfrey responds. “How long were you having symptoms before you passed out?” I shrug.

“She wasn’t breathing properly in Flitwick’s office. She was panting,” Dad says. “And she kept putting her hand on her chest, as if she couldn’t catch her breath.” I did?

“How do you feel now?” Madam Moore asks as Madam Pomfrey hurries back into her office, searching for something.

“Oh, uh, I don’t know. I feel better. I can breathe better. Not as dizzy, and the light isn’t bothering me as much anymore. I still don’t feel one hundred percent, but, er, better,” I respond. Madam Pomfrey comes back holding a cup of light blue liquid. Calming Draught, my old friend.

“Drink this. You’ll be staying in here overnight. Stress makes your condition worse and it’s necessary to monitor you. You can go back to classes first thing tomorrow.” She helps me sit up, holding my head as she pours the draught down my throat. Its effects are very fast. My lungs no longer feel squeezed. My buzzing, swirling storm of thoughts calm down. My eyes droop and I lazily smile.

“Where’s Scorpius? You said he brought me here,” I ask. Mum smiles, holding my hand.

“We felt it would be best if it was only us while you were unconscious. Your friends are outside, waiting for you to wake up. Shall we get them?” I nod. Madam Pomfrey and Madam Moore disappear into the back office with a reminder about the maximum number of visitors. Dad opens the door and a flood of people rush in: Holly, Scorp, and Lily lead the charge, followed quickly by Hugo, Al, James, Dom, Fred and Roxie.

“We’ll go, so you can be with your friends. Remember what I said about us being only an owl or a floo away,” Mum said, kissing my forehead. Dad reached down and I sat up to hug him.

“Love you, Rosie. Stay safe, listen to Flitwick and the aurors, and keep in touch,” he whispers into my hair. He leans over to kiss my cheek before taking mum’s hand and leaving the hospital wing.

“Rose, Scorp said you passed out! What happened?” Al shouts. Everyone else starts shouting variations on the same sentiment.

“Oi!” Scorpius roars. “One at a time. Give the girl a chance to breathe.”  I smile lazily up at him.

“I just got a little dizzy is all,” I say, yawning.

“What’s wrong with her?” Roxie whispers to Fred. Lily shoots them a look.

“I bet Pomfrey gave you a Calming Draught,” James says. I nod, yawning.

“Was it an, er, attack?” Al asks me. I nod. My whole family knows because I’ve had them at some of our parties before. Everyone’s witnessed one at some point. I should feel embarrassed, but I can’t seem to care right now. For a while we just sit in silence. After my fifth yawn, Scorpius stands up.

“Maybe we should go, let you get some sleep?” he suggests. Fred, James, Al and Roxie volunteer first, waving goodbye. Lily drags Dom away, insisting that I can’t drink tea with her right now. I suppose firewhiskey and calming draught wouldn’t mix well.

“I’m not leaving,” Hugo says obstinately. It’s just him, Holly and Scorpius now. Holly is perched at the end of my bed. Scorpius stands near her and Hugo is sitting in the chair near my head.

“I didn’t tell you to,” I say. We spend the rest of the afternoon playing chess. Or rather, Holly and I watch Hugo beat Scorpius at chess over and over. After winning for the fifth time in a row, Hugo stands.

“I need dinner. Are you two coming?” Hugo asks. I shrug, forgetting that he’s not really asking me.

“Not hungry,” Scorpius grunts.

“Me neither,” Holly adds. Hugo shrugs, tells me to feel better and heads off to dinner. Holly comes to sit next to me on the bed, and I lean my head against her shoulder.

“So,” Scorpius says slowly, drawing the word out. “What did Flitwick say?” Huh, it seems like forever ago that I was called out of class. Is it even the same day anymore?

“The letter writer is a werewolf. A really bad guy from the Blood Cub pack, a faction of Greyback’s old gang. He’s been stalking me. Probably for my whole life. He’s been know to kidnap kids and turn them. For fun. I think he wants to kidnap me.” Holly gasps. “But the aurors will keep me safe.”

“That calming draught must be strong,” Scorpius scoffs. “So, what? This guys is going to try and kidnap you to turn you?” I nod, squirming a little bit. Turning sounds like it hurts. “He’ll have a hard time doing that since he’ll have to get through me.” I giggle as he puffs his chest out.

“My hero,” I say, draping myself around him in a hug. I close my eyes and lay back down, yawning.

“Rosie, you haven’t eaten since breakfast,” Holly reminds me. Fat cow.

“Not hungry,” I mumble, not opening my eyes. My stomach betrays me by growling. I open my eyes when I hear Holly leave, the door slamming behind her. “Where’s she going?”

“To get food. Even if you’re not hungry, we are,” he smirks. I pat the spot where Holly just vacated and he comes to lay next to me. I put my head on his chest.

“Scorp, you’re my best friend,” I whisper through a yawn.

“Ooh, I’m telling Holly,” he laughs.

“No,” I tell him, careful to drag the word out. “I can have two best friends. You and Holly. One, two,” I say, counting off on my fingers. He grabs my hand.

“The bartender should have cut you off three drinks ago,” he laughs.

“I’m not drunk,” I tell him very seriously. He just chuckles.

“I know, I know. Calming Draughts always hit lightweights like you like a truck of firewhiskey.” I flush, recalling my drunken debauchery with Dom. All it took was one bottle and I was too drunk to stand. We lay there in comfortable silence again until Holly burst through the door, a literal basket nestled in the crook of her elbow. Literally, she was carrying a wicker picnic basket like something out of Little Red Riding Hood.

“I raided the kitchens so we could make a picnic,” she said happily, plopping the basket on top of my bed. Scorpius helped me sit up, making more room for the food. As we feasted on pastries and roast chicken, Madame Pomfrey came back out.

“Five minute warning, kids. Curfew is coming up- what? What is this mess?” She spluttered, catching sight of our picnic. Holly quickly vanished the offending mess. Madame Pomfrey gave her a stern look, leaving a pair of pajamas on the bed before departing back into the office.

“I’ll help you,” Holly offered, pulling the curtain around my bed. Scorpius stood just outside as Holly helped me pull on my pajamas, seeing as I was still acting like a drunken house elf. “I’ll be back as soon as the hospital wing opens in the morning. I can even make you a copy of the notes you missed earlier today, drop it off when I come in the morning. Have a good sleep, dear,” she whispered, giving me a hug when I was lying back on the bed. She took off, leaving Scorpius and I. He came and sat on the bed next to me. I laid my head on his shoulder.

“Scorp,” I whispered.

“Mmm?”

“Scorp, I’m… I’m scared. This guy… what if he gets through all the defenses? It’s happened before. What if he… turns me?” He takes me hand as I stifle a yawn. He didn’t say anything, just laid me down on the bed and stood up. he kissed my temple, then went to knock on Madame Pomfrey’s door. I could only hear snippets of their conversations.

“Just until she falls asleep…” I heard Scorpius plead. “Her situation… Her safety… Twenty minutes… Thank you so much.” He came back, laying on the bed again.

“What did you do?” I ask. He looks over at me and smiles.

“I asked Madame Pomfrey to let me stay with you, just until you fall asleep. I told you: this guy can get through all the aurors and protective enchantments he wants, but he’s not getting through me.” I don’t say anything, can’t think of anything to say to that. We just lay there for who knows how long. At some point, I hear his breath slow and a low, soft snore escapes. It’s this sound that gets me to sleep.


	9. Meeting the Letter Writer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What happened to ‘only until she falls asleep’?” Madam Pomfrey says wryly. I open one eye groggily. The clock reads half two in the morning. She’s perched on the chair next to the bed.  
> “I’m sorry ma’am. I must have fallen asleep waiting for her to fall asleep,” I say. I start to stand up, but Rose has twisted herself around me. Her head is resting on my chest, one arm wrapped underneath my torso and the other on top. Her leg is wrapped around my legs, and my arms are around her waist. Flushing, I start to extricate myself from her.

Chapter 9: Meeting the Letter Writer

  
  


“What happened to ‘only until she falls asleep’?” Madam Pomfrey says wryly. I open one eye groggily. The clock reads half two in the morning. She’s perched on the chair next to the bed.

“I’m sorry ma’am. I must have fallen asleep waiting for her to fall asleep,” I say. I start to stand up, but Rose has twisted herself around me. Her head is resting on my chest, one arm wrapped underneath my torso and the other on top. Her leg is wrapped around my legs, and my arms are around her waist. Flushing, I start to extricate myself from her.

“Don’t bother, Mr. Malfoy,” she says kindly. “There’s no need to wake her up now.”

“You’re not kicking me out?” I ask her, voice still thick with sleep.

“Put yourself in her shoes for a moment, Mr. Malfoy. She’s being terrorized by a criminal that the auror’s office has been unable to catch for years. She just now found out he’s been watching her for her entire life. She feels very vulnerable, very afraid. It is highly likely she has not slept properly since she got that first letter. Now she has suffered an attack of true panic, true fear. Her heart was racing, she couldn’t catch a breath, she lost consciousness. She’s going through a lot right now, and needs her sleep. The only thing that made her feel safe was company, someone watching over her while she slept. Would you want to take that safety away? Would you want to wake her up?”

“No,” I say without hesitating. I pause a moment. “So… I’m not in trouble?”

“Maybe I’m getting soft in my old age, but no,” she says, smiling.

“You’re not old Miss,” I say immediately. She leans over and pinched my cheek.

“Such a sweet boy. No wonder I like you so much,” she smiles. I shrug. Rose shifts, mumbling something. I stroke her hair, staying silent. After a moment, she sighs and stops moving, quiet again. “Take care of her Mr. Malfoy. Go back to sleep, and if anyone asks, we never had this conversation?”

“Yes Madam Pomfrey. Good night,” I whisper. She nods and disappears back into her office. In the silence, I hear Rose snoring slightly. It’s just a whistle as the air passes through her nose. It’s very quiet, and very rhythmic. I focus on it, breathing with her. It’s this sound that gets me back to sleep.

 

The sunlight streaming through the windows wakes me up the next morning, shining through my eyelids. I groan as I open them, blinking in the sudden flush of light. The curtain has been pulled around my bed, but it wasn’t there when I went to sleep. It’s then that I notice why.

Scorpius is still in bed with me.

He’s still asleep, still snoring slightly. His arms are around my waist, and I have wrapped my entire body around him. My arms are around his neck, my head on his shoulder, my torso draped over his chest. I’m practically laying on top of him. Flushing, I start to shift, trying to separate myself from him. The movement wakes him and he starts to open his eyes, smiling at me.

“Hello, love,” he growls, his voice deep and crackly from sleep. “Have a nice night?” He laughs when I turn pink. I start to pull myself away and he just laughs, letting me go. After a moment he stands up, moving to the chair. His clothes are rumple and I notice they’re the same clothes he wore last night. The curtain twitches open and Madam Pomfrey stands there, Madam Moore behind her. Madam Pomfrey doesn’t bat an eye but Madam Moore turns pink, determinedly staring at her clipboard.

“Good morning dear. How are you feeling today?” As she speaks, she waves her wand again, performing some diagnosis spells, I assume.

“Better, a lot better, actually. I’m not dizzy, and I can breathe, and I just feel better, calmer, y’know?” She nods and Madame Moore starts scribbling furiously.

“Well, your vital signs seem normal. So, I’m releasing you, but if you feel any worse you are to come straight here. Mr. Malfoy, I trust you will keep an eye on her and hold her to this? I suggest you relay this message to her other companions so that they can also keep an eye on her,” she suggests.

“Why, Madame Pomfrey, one would think that you don’t trust me to take care of myself,” I say, mock-serious. She just raises an eyebrow.

“You are a notoriously stubborn girl, known to ignore symptoms until they’re staring you in the face. So, yes, one could think that I don’t trust you. However, that’s not entirely true. I just think you have a large blind spot, which I hope your friends can keep an eye on for you,” she says sternly, but punctuates it with a smile. Just then, the door bangs open, and Madame Pomfrey goes off to check on another student, a first year boy clutching his stomach down on the other end of the hospital wing. Holly enters the hospital wing, smiling and holding a bundle of clothing. Her smile falters a bit when she sees Scorpius, but then starts smiling again, walking towards us.

“I brought you some clothes, first thing, just like I said. Figured you wouldn’t want to walk back to the dorms in your hospital jams. Perhaps I should have brought you some clothes,” she says, shooting Scorpius a look. She raises one eyebrow at me.

“Rose was scared, because of the letter guy, you know? I asked Madame Pomfrey if I could just stay with her until she fell asleep so that I could make her feel safe, but I must have fallen asleep,” Scorpius says quickly.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were scared? I’m your friend, too,” she says softly. I can see how hurt she is.

“Oh, Hols, I know you are. I absolutely know you’re my best friend. I just, I don’t really know why I didn’t tell you. It’s a little embarrassing, admitting you’re sixteen years old and afraid to be alone in the dark. When you left first, it didn’t sink in, you know? I didn’t realize that I was going to be left alone, left to fend for myself when there’s someone out there who’s been watching me since I was a kid. The Calming Draught was starting to wear off and I was really starting to freak out, and the only one here was Scorpius. Had he left first, I would have asked you to stay with me. It’s not a question of whom I trust more, or whom I like best. It was a question of who was there.” Holly’s lower lip wobbles, just a bit. She bites it, forcing it to stop.

“I know, I guess I just don’t like feeling useless,” she shrugs, changing the subject. “Anyways, I brought you some jeans and a jumper. I figured we could head down to the kitchens, grab some food and make a picnic up in the dorms.” Taking her hint and dropping the subject, Scorpius left and Holly pulled the curtain closed. I changed quickly, pulling on the jumper and pushing the curtain to the side.

“So, to the kitchens, yeah?” I said. I looped my arm around hers, and Scorpius looped his around her other arm. Within minutes we found ourselves lounging in the common room, a picnic spread in front of us.

“Alright, can we ask you about the letter writer? I mean, you gave us a summary last night but you were sort of… er… out of it. What did Flitwick say?” Holly asks, a bit of egg hanging out of her mouth. I laugh, wiping it away.

“I told you all the important stuff. He’s a member of Fenfir Greyback’s old pack. They call themselves the Blood Cubs. They’re notorious for kidnapping kids and turning them, just like Greyback. You saw that he has pictures of me from when I was really little, so he’s clearly been watching me for a while. We don’t know why.”

“What are the aurors doing about this?” Scorpius asks.

“Enhancing the protective enchantments around the school. Having aurors patrol the borders of the school. Monitoring the entrances and exits, like the secret passageways and things. Told me not to leave school grounds or travel around alone. I suppose they’re also increasing their efforts to find him, checking all their past cases involving him and tracing the letter and what-not. Oh, I don’t know,” I shrug.

“Past cases? He’s done this before?” Holly asks.

“Oh, no, not exactly. I told you he kidnaps kids right? The aurors have some of those old cases and they’ll probably inspect them again, see if they missed something. He was the one who would stun the parents while his associates took the kids. The… the cases are cold but they are probably looking again.”

“What else are they doing about it? What do they know about him?” Scorpius asked, leaning in closer. The picnic lay forgotten on the floor.

“I already told you everything. He’s a werewolf. He was part of Greyback’s pack, so he’s probably around 30. Oh, and they gave me a sketch. I totally forgot about it. I guess some of the parents of the kids got a good enough look at him to make a sketch or something. They gave me a copy of the sketch, but I never got a chance to look at it.” I reached into the pocket of my uniform from yesterday, pulling out the crumpled piece of parchment. I hesitate.

“Do you want to look at it?” Holly asks softly.

“I have to,” I tell her. Taking a deep breath, I unroll the parchment. The drawing is exquisite, enough detail to resemble a photograph. Slowly, I start to look at the details. He’s young-looking. His hair is thick, half of it falling into his face and the other half sticking up straight. His eyebrows are thick and heavy. His jaw is well-defined and strong, his lips turned down in a grimace. There’s a scar running along his left cheek, sharp and jagged. A list is written underneath the picture, detailing more statistics like hair and eye color. Brown hair, brown eyes, about 6’2” and 180 pounds. If he smiled he could be considered attractive. Oh, and if he wasn’t evil.

“He won’t even get close to you,” Scorpius growls, looking over my shoulder, studying the picture.

“I won’t let him,” Holly pipes up. “He won’t get through me.” She flexes her arms, striking a pose and we laugh until an owl flies in through an open window, carrying a blood red envelope. It drops it on my lap and we stop laughing.

“Is that… another letter?” Holly whispered. I don’t say anything, peeling open the envelope, perversely curious and intensely afraid.

 

_My Dearest Rose,_

_Rose, Rose, Rose. You thought going to the ministry was a good idea? You thought those bumbling aurors could catch me, make this go away? They’ve been looking for me for years, more years than they even know. I’ve rescued over a hundred kids, given them a better life. Life as a wolf, a member of my pack. Yes, it was once Greyback’s pack, but I have earned the right to be Alpha. You are to be betrothed to a leader, a master. My children, my wolves that I have rescued, are waiting for you, their mother._

_So, tell me dear, did the aurors help you? What did they tell you about me? That I stunned the parents while my packmates stole the children? How many cases do they have me on? Seventeen? Eighteen? They’re woefully underselling my abilities. I say this not to scare you, but to show you of all I am capable of. Did the aurors give you that lovely sketch they made of me? It does me no justice. Perhaps you would be interested in a real photograph of me. For now, I send another of you. I’ve always been here, my love, looking out for you._

_All my love,_

_Me_

 

“A hundred?” Holly whispers, her hand over her mouth. Over a hundred families, that’s over two hundred parents, thousands of relatives, friends, and neighbors who are mourning. That’s over a hundred kids put through hell, and he’s proud. There’s a churning in my stomach, our picnic threatening to make a reappearance. Before I have a chance to do anything, it expels itself from my stomach, staining the carpet we’re sitting on. Holly vanishes the mess, while Scorpius just sits there, staring at a photograph that had fallen out of the envelope.

“What is it?” I ask him, afraid of the answer. He doesn’t say anything, just hands it over to me. It’s a photo of me from first year. I’m lying in the hospital wing, unconscious. My parents are standing by the bed, a sea of red haired relatives swarming around me. On the other end of the hospital wing, near the door, is Scorpius, also laying on a bed, unconscious. He is bloody and bruised, with only a few blonde-haired relatives to be seen.

The scariest thing about this picture is not that it was taken while I was at Hogwarts, which is supposed to be safe. It is the angle from which it had been taken. My bed, in this particular visit, was on the far end of the wing, near the window. For this picture to have been taken, capturing not only me but also Scorpius on the other end of the wing, it had to have been taken from outside. Outside the window, which was rather high up, particularly based on the angle of the picture. This picture is impossible, unless he had taken it while floating. Not even a Firebolt could sit still enough for the photo to be taken.

“That picture is from first year, when you and he were, and that Roger guy, right?” Holly whispers. I nod, handing her the photo, envelope and letter.

“Can you hold onto this? I just, I have to, um, go to the bathroom,” I said quietly, running up to our dormitory.

“Rose, are you okay?” Amy asks as I run by her. As soon as I lock myself in the bathroom, she starts knocking.

“Just give me a minute,” I beg. She stops knocking. I sit down on the floor, leaning over the edge of the toilet. After ten minutes, after every single item I have ever eaten, looked at, or even thought about has vacated my body, I stand up.

“Rose, please, let me in,” Amy whispers. She’s clearly been standing there, listening to me vomit. Poor girl. Such a good friend.

“I’m fine, just a stomach bug,” I tell her. “I’ll be out in a minute.” Standing over the sink, I rinse my mouth out and splash water on my face. I can’t stop seeing it: the letter writer, standing over a child (who, in my mind, always looks like Cecilie or Hugo), teeth bared. He lunges, blood painting the room, and another life is forever altered. He’s proud of it, and thinks I should be too. He wants to do that to me, dominate me, standing over me with teeth bared. I dry heave, but there is nothing left in me. There’s a violent banging on the door.

“Rose Weasley, get out here this instant,” Nora shouts. She mutters something and the lock clicks. I can only imagine how this must look. I’m probably pale, and she can see how sweaty I am, watches the tremors in my body. I imagine my breath smells as terrible as my mouth tastes: like roadkill and dumpsters and the dungeons. Hunched over the sink, heaving to no avail, I’m probably a pitiful sight. For a moment, her hair color wavers, turning grey.

“Holly, you better get her to Madame Pomfrey,” she calls out.

“No!” I shout. “I just… just got some bad news. It took me by surprise, that’s all. I’m not sick,” I insist. Holly clucks her tongue.

“You should still see her. She can give you a Pepper-Up Potion and make you feel better. You’ll need to rehydrate and what not.”

“No, I can drink water. I’ll be fine. Come on, Hols,” I beg her. She sighs, and I know that she’s given up.

“Let’s go get you fixed up,” she says quietly. I follow her, and Nora moves out of our way, her hair already back to its normal pink and blue. Amy sits on her bed, watching us thoughtfully. Scorpius is waiting at the bottom of the stairs. I start to sit down in an armchair, but Holly roughly pulls on my arm, forcing me back to my feet. “Oh no you don’t. If you wanna skip out on going to Madam Pomfrey’s, that’s fine, but you will take care of yourself. That means getting water, food and ginger ale.” Her voice is as hard as her grip on my arm, yanking me out of the common room. “And we are taking this letter to Professor Flitwick. This is not up for discussion.” I don’t say anything, just let her drag me around, let her do the deciding so that I don’t have to think.

I don’t want to think anymore.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments? Concerns? Love letters? Dislikes? Anything? Is this thing on? *taps microphone* 
> 
>  
> 
> Nah, but seriously, thanks for reading! Maybe leave a comment so I know you're not a robot?


	10. Learning to Adapt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wake up screaming, thrashing around. There is something smothering me, crushing me. I can’t escape from it. I kick harder, but it just grips me tighter.

Chapter 10: Learning to Adapt

  
  


“Rose,” I hear someone call out. Blearily, I look up at them. “Rose, you have to come quick.” Amy stands at the foot of my bed. I stand up, running down the stairs and into the common room. Standing in the middle of the room is the mysterious letter writer. His jeans have holes in them that I don’t think were manufactured in. His undershirt is meant to be white, but the dirt and blood stains have turned it brown, with splashes of red.

“Rose,” he growls, his lips turning into a cruel sneer. It’s then that I notice the mountain behind him. A pile of bodies, the sources of the bloodstains. For a moment, I am blessed enough not to see faces. But then, because I am a masochist, I start to look for identities. Scorpius and Holly are the first faces I see. James. Dom. Lily. Al. Mum. Dad. Roxie. Fred. Louis. Victoire. Teddy. Uncle Harry. Aunt Ginny. Professor Flitwick. Auror Smith. Auror Jensen. Nana Molly. Grandad Arthur. Granny and Grampa Granger. Madame Pomfrey.

There’s a thump and I look back to the man standing in front of me. He drops something at my feet. Cecilie. Her tiny body twisted at all sorts of unnatural angles. I can’t find any flesh that has not been touched by his teeth, ripping and tearing, ruining her.

“My Rose,” he whispers. I look up at him. When he smiles, his teeth are stained red. He lunges for me, and it’s all I can do to scream.

 

I wake up screaming, thrashing around. There is something smothering me, crushing me. I can’t escape from it. I kick harder, but it just grips me tighter.

“Stop fighting Rose! It’s just your blanket. You’ll wake up the entire school if you don’t stop,” someone grumbles. It takes a moment for me to stop screaming, and another few to stop thrashing around. As soon as I stop, there are hands pulling at it, pulling at me. I just manage to stop another scream when it occurs to me that the hands belong to my friends, my roommates.

“Bad dream?” Holly asks quietly, once I’ve been safely extracted from the blankets. I nod, unable to speak. “Wanna go sit by the fire? Tell me about it?” All I can see is the pile of bodies, stationed in front of the fire. I shake my head. She sighs, taking my hand in hers.

“Tell me about the dream,” she whispers once we’re sitting on the couch. I sit shoulder to shoulder with her, a blanket wrapped around us both. I draw my knees in, pulling my arms around them.

“It was terrible,” I croak. “It was him. He was here, and there was this… this pile of… bodies. You, Scorp, Mum, Dad, everyone. Then it was Cecilie, he… dropped her body at my feet. His shirt was covered in… in her blood. And his teeth… at my throat…”

“Shh, shh, shh,” she mutters, holding my hand. “It was just a dream, it wasn’t real.”

“But what if it is next time?” I ask her. Holly takes my face in her hands, forcing me to look in her eyes.

“It was a dream. It was not real. They are protecting you. We are protecting you. I am protecting you. It will not be real. You are safe.”

“It was a dream,” I repeat. “It is not real. I am safe.” I lay my head down. “Just a dream,” I whisper. “It’s not real.” I train my eyes on the fire, repeating those words until I fall back into a dreamless, peaceful sleep.

 

It’s ridiculously easy, sneaking into the boys’ dormitory. Poor guys, the stairs turn into a slide when they try to get upstairs for a late night booty call. Not that that’s what I’m currently doing, but still. The point still remains.

“Scorp,” I hiss, flipping open his curtain. He’s sprawled out over his bed, blankets only covering his lower half. His bare chest is so pale it practically reflects in the moonlight. I shake his shoulder and, with a snort, he opens his eyes.

“What? Hols, what are you doing here?” he mumbles, squinting at me.

“Wake up, Rose needs you,” I whisper. He sits straight up as soon as I say her name. Inadvertently, I feel a pang of jealousy. I don’t have feelings for Scorpius, I really don’t, but I can’t help but feel like a third wheel. They both clearly have feelings for each other, and I just want someone to look at me the way he looks at her when she’s not looking.

“Is she hurt? What’s wrong?” he asks, jumping up. His blanket falls off, and I can’t help but laugh. “What’s funny? You said Rose needs help.”

“You might want to out on some pants, Scorp.” He flushes, realizing he’s only wearing a pair of silk blue boxers. Figures a Malfoy would only wear silk. I turn around, letting him have a moment of privacy as he pulls on some clothes.

“What’s wrong with Rose?” he asks as we convene on the landing outside the stairs. He’s hastily pulling at his plaid pajama pants and gray shirt.

“I said she needs help, not that something’s wrong. This isn’t an emergency, I just need your help,” I clarify. “She had a nightmare about the letter guy -we have got to find something better to refer to him as, by the way- and couldn’t go back to sleep. I brought her down to the common room to calm her down, but now she’s fallen asleep and I can’t get her back up there. I figure she’ll sleep better in her room, but I can’t lift her.”

“You didn’t think to levitate her?” he whispers as we enter the common room. Truthfully, I hadn’t.

“I was afraid she would wake up and panic,” I tell him. He just shrugs, then kneels down next to her. I watch him brush a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Scorp?” I whisper. He looks up at me. “Have you ever considered telling her how you feel?” He immediately flushes red, stuttering as he tries to come up with a good answer. Finally, he stops, and just looks at her face.

“She deserves better than a Malfoy. The only reason my dad wasn’t imprisoned after the war is because her family vouched for him, speaking of second chances. They got my grandparents a reduced sentence, too. She’s so good, come from such a good family, and I just… I don’t,” he whispers.

“Oh please. You really think she cares what your name is? She cares about who you are, not your father,” I tell him. He looks down, letting his hair fall in her face.

“Doesn’t matter,” he grunts. He pick her up, cradling her like a baby. She sighs, leaning into him. After he’s settled her back into bed, I look at the door, where he had just exited.

“It does to her,” I say quietly.

 

The weeks pass quickly, a blur of classes, meals, prefect patrols, updates from Flitwick and, of course, more letters.

They come once a week, always in a red envelope, always with a photograph attached. The photos showcase me: me and Hugo, me and Scorpius, me, Scorpius and Holly, me. Some are from when I was a kid: playing in our yard, or at the Burrow or the playground. Others are from my school days: my first day of muggle primary school, my first Hogsmeade visit, my first Quidditch match, taking the train home at the end of last year.

He always talks about how beautiful I am. How he can’t wait to see me again, insisting that we have met before. How he can’t wait until we’re reunited so that he can kiss me, touch me, bite me, turn me. How I should be honored that such a powerful man, an Alpha, has chosen me. How I should be excited, how I would love being a wolf.

Flitwick always tells me they’re trying. The aurors are looking for him, searching the country. They’re trying to find him. They’re reopening all his past cases, and searching for more. They’ve already found another twenty missing children, all muggle kids. They were reported to muggle law enforcement, and nobody ever realized they were kidnapped by werewolves. They all got notes afterward, but they told the parents the kids were dead, not werewolf cubs. Flitwick reckons there are more cases where the parents never reported the kids, but the aurors are still looking. With over a hundred cases, they had to have slipped up at some point, right? They haven’t found one yet, but they’re trying.

The nightmares are less frequent, reserved only for the nights after I read a letter. The panic attacks have no such schedule, and they’ve become more frequent. I now have to keep a cauldron of Calming Draught simmering in my room, a flask in my pocket at all times. It helps get me through the days, just a sip to take the edge off. Not enough to be noticeable, just enough to head off the panic.

I spend most of my free time either mounted on a broom or running in the Forbidden Forest as a dog. As a dog, I let my instincts take over, and I stop thinking. I stop worrying about the manic werewolf who’s after me, the sniggers and whispers I still hear in the halls, the voices in my head hissing ‘fat cow’ and ‘prude of Hogwarts.’ All that matters is the grass beneath my feet, and the path ahead as I run. When I’m on a broom, it’s like I’m above all my problems, like I’ve left them all on the ground.

“Wanna go run?” Scorpius asks, holding his hand out to me. I’m sitting in the library, hunched over my Potions essay. It’s already a foot longer than it needed to be and I’m just rambling at this point. I hastily scrawl a conclusion before taking his hand and letting him lead me out of the library.

“Tell me that wasn’t the potions essay that’s not due until next monday,” Scorpius teases. I shrug.

“I’d rather finish it early.”

“On a Friday evening? You do know that your cousin is having a party in his dorm, right? A party that we could easily attend, and have a wonderful time at,” he says.

“Not in the mood for parties,” I sigh. “But I am in the mood to fly.”

“Let’s get our brooms,” he grins. Running now, we reach the Ravenclaw Tower.

“What is death?” the phoenix sings.

“Death is a cessation of life,” I tell it. I run into the dormitory, fetching my broomstick and dropping my bag. “Hey, where’s Holly?” I ask Scorpius when I meet him by the common room entrance.

“She is on a date,” he says proudly, smiling.

“With whom?” I ask, smiling.

“Your cousin Al’s friend actually. A bloke by the name of Leonard Goldstein, or something? He took her down for a walk by the lake, and I think he planned a picnic, too.” We start walking down to the pitch.

“Good for her,” I say with conviction. “Holly deserves to be happy.” Scorpius nods and we walk in silence. As happy as I am for Holly, I can’t help but feel a little jealous. Harvey has had a girlfriend for a month now. He’s clearly moved on, and I’m still stuck. No one is offering me their hand, or trying to woo me. Hell, most guys still think of me as the Hogwarts prude, and not worth their time. After all, what’s the point in courting a girl if you can’t get something out of it?

As soon as we’re outside, I mount my broom and take off. Scorpius followed after me, shouting and calling me a cheater. We navigate around students and trees and statues, ignoring kids’ shouts of protest, and first years’ shouts of fear. Before we know it, we’re racing up and down the pitch, chasing each other and flying through the goal hoops.

I don’t know what makes me stop. I slow to a halt, high above the ground. I’m above the goals, the viewing stands, and even nearby trees. I don’t know what makes me stop, looking around, looking for something that’s wrong. Scorpius is yelling to me, asking what’s wrong, but I don’t quite know. There’s no one else flying, no one in the air, no one in the viewing stands. I don’t know what makes me look down, but I do know what I see. Despite how far away he is, despite how high up I am, I can see him. It’s him, the letter writer. He’s standing on the ground, a camera pointed up at me. I see him smile, and the edges of my vision start to dim. I hear Scorpius yelling to me, but I can’t do anything.

As my vision goes black, all I remember is the wind on my face as I fell.


	11. Back to the Hospital Wing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It was like something from a movie, watching Rose fall.  
> I didn’t even realize she had slowed to a stop until I was way on the other end of the pitch. I just shouted to her, teasing her for giving up, telling her I was going to win the race. I didn’t realize something was wrong until she screamed. How was I supposed to know she wasn’t just playing? She was just sitting there on her broom, looking around at everything. Then, she screamed, just once. One short, shrill, piercing scream. Then she fell.

**Chapter 11: Back to the Hospital Wing**

  
  


It was like something from a movie, watching Rose fall.

I didn’t even realize she had slowed to a stop until I was way on the other end of the pitch. I just shouted to her, teasing her for giving up, telling her I was going to win the race. I didn’t realize something was wrong until she screamed. How was I supposed to know she wasn’t just playing? She was just sitting there on her broom, looking around at everything. Then, she screamed, just once. One short, shrill, piercing scream. Then she fell.

For a moment, I couldn’t do anything; I could only watch as she fell, her body suspended midair, arms flapping around, body still like a puppet. For a moment, I sat there, unable to do anything. Then, after a moment, I figured out what to do. Or rather, I acted. I didn’t think. One moment, I was frozen, watching her fall. The next I was lying flat against my broom, racing towards her as fast as possible.

I couldn’t catch her.

I could only watch, just a few feet shy of grabbing her arm, as she hit the ground. At the last moment, I thought of a spell, something to slow her down, but it didn’t have enough time to completely slow her momentum. She landed on her arm, and I heard a sickening snap.

As soon as I hit the ground, I run to her. Before I can get there, she starts screaming.

“Rose, Rose, I can help you,” I yell. She just keeps groaning, screaming in pain. Getting closer, I can see why. The arm is bent in half, not in the way it should bend. I can see little sharp, white pieces of bones sticking out of her flesh, her blood trickling down the arm.

“Scorpius, my wand,” she groaned.

“Right, right, your wand. Erm, you must have dropped it in the fall… See, I can’t, er, can’t find it,” I ramble, searching the ground nearby.

“Scorpius. Hyperion. Malfoy. Get me my bloody wand,” she yells through gritted teeth. Her face is turning pale. She’s sweating bullets, but the wind is biting my skin, getting worse as the sun starts to set. I summon it and it comes flying at me from a few feet away. She takes it from me and takes a deep breath.

“Rose, you can’t try and heal yourself; it doesn’t work-” I start to warn her.

 _“Episkey_ ,” she whispers breathily. There’s another sickening noise and she screams again, her arm bending back into place. It doesn’t look right, still bent in a funny way, and the cut still bleeds. The bleeding has slowed, but it’s still a steady flow, and her color hasn’t improved. If anything, it’s gotten worse.

“Rose, we have to get you to the hospital wing,” I insist. She just moans.

“Is it better? My… my arm?” She’s breathing heavily, and tries to sit up to look at it. I help her, supporting her back. She tries to lift her arm, but it doesn’t seem to be cooperating. I gingerly pick it up, trying to look at it. She groans, and I can’t blame her. Her arm feels like rubber: pliable and wobbly. It flops around, bending every which way at the slightest provocation. The blood flows quicker now, so I drop her arm back into her lap.

“Scorp, when did you get two triplet brothers?” she asks, her words slurred and her head wobbling around on her shoulders. Her pupils are dilated so large they almost swallow her whole eye.

“It’s okay, let’s just get you to Madame Pomfrey. She’ll fix this,” I tell her softly, working hard to stay calm. I put one arm around her shoulders. She swings her right arm around my neck, the left one not cooperating. I cradle her to my chest, and she leans against me.

“Scorp, I don’t feel so good,” she mutters before her eyes slide closed. Panicking now, I start to run. It probably isn’t the smartest idea, but I’d rather have her get to the professionals quicker than bleed to death in my arms while I try to keep from jostling her.

“Madame Pomfrey, you have to help. Please,” I shout, banging open the door. She looks up from the other end of the hospital wing, where she stands over two boys, each with bruises and flowing blood. She tells Madame Moore to deal with that before rushing over to me, gesturing for me to put her down on the nearest bed. Before she’s even settled, the nurse is waving her wand, muttering spells and things. She flicks her wand and a bottle of potion comes flying out of her office. I catch it as she heals the gash on her arm.

“Blood Replenishing potion. She’s lost a lot. I had to heal the punctured artery before I could give it to her. Uncork it,” she tells me, her voice clipped and calm. I do just that, handing her the potion. She pours it down Rose’s throat, and her color slowly returns.

“What, precisely, happened?” she asks.

“We were flying out on the pitch. She, Rose, says it relaxes her, keeps her from panicking. But, she sort of did panic. She stopped, and just looked around, like she saw something, then she screamed and fell.”

“How high were you?” she interjects.

“Really high. A few hundred feet, at least. I don’t know specifically.”

“After she fell,” she prompts.

“I went chasing after her, to stop her, to slow her down, anything. I didn’t think of the _arresto momentum_ spell until she was so close to the ground. It couldn’t slow her down enough. She landed on her arm. When I got to her, she started screaming. The bone, it was poking out, snapped in half. She was bleeding and wouldn’t stop screaming.” I was not likely to forget that sound anytime soon. “She made me get her wand for her, and I did, and then she did this spell, to heal her. I told her not to, but she did anyways.”

“What spell?”

“Episkey. And then her arm bent backwards again, but back into place. Her bleeding slowed, but didn’t stop. Then she got really dizzy. She tried to move her arm, but it was like rubber. Then she passed out and I brought her here.”

“Oh, foolish girl. That spell is only supposed to be for small breaks. Nose, toes, fingers, that sort of thing. The radius and the ulna are far too large, far too important to be fixed with such a simple spell.” Rose starts to open her eyes, mumbling and moaning.

“What happened?” she mumbles, trying to sit up. I put a hand on her chest, holding her back down.

“Your attempts to heal yourself ended in the accidental removal of all of the bones in your arm. You should have come to me first. I can mend bones in a heartbeat but growing them back-”

“You can do it, right?” I ask quickly.

“Absolutely, but regrowing bones is a nasty business. Just ask your Uncle, he had to do it,” she says to Rose. “But, lucky for you they’ve since come up with a pain reliever potion that won’t counteract the Skele-gro. So, you’ll probably be able to sleep through the night without those nasty growing pains.”

“Give it to me,” Rose says, still panting heavily.

“Oh no, you need to hydrate first and get your blood sugar back up. Standard procedure for blood loss, muggle or magical. Malfoy, get some pumpkin juice and food. Nothing too heavy, though, or else the Skele-gro won’t be as effective.” I nod, shifting into a dog as soon as I get out the door. Instead of running towards the kitchen, I run to the lake and find Holly, leaning against a tree watching Leonard try and catch grapes in his mouth. I bark once, and she stands immediately. I shift, and Leonard’s mouth flops open.

“Rose is in the hospital wing. I’ve gotta go get her some food. Can you get her some pyjamas? Pomfrey says she’ll have to stay the night.” WIthout waiting for a response, I shift again and take off, this time heading for the kitchens. I’m ashamed to report that I was rather rude to Pokey when she came to give me the food. I told her it was for Rose and that she was in trouble, so I do hope she understands, but I just ran, moving as fast as human legs could take me since I couldn’t carry it as a dog.

“What took you so long?” Holly grins, meeting me outside the hospital wing, a pair of Rose’s pyjamas in her arms. She also has Rose’s Ravenclaw blanket, and a stuffed bear that looks like it’s seen better days. Seeing me eyeing it, Holly jumps to her own defense. “If she’s in trouble, I thought some comfort things couldn’t hurt.” i just nod, walking into the hospital wing.

“Juice and toast,” I say proudly, offering up my prize to Madame Pomfrey. She nods and gives them to Rose, with orders to eat it slowly, while I fill Holly in.

“Oh my God, I heard someone scream, but didn’t know where it was coming from!” she gasped. “What made you fall?”

“I saw him,” Rose deadpans, taking a sip of her juice. “The letter writer.”

“Stop,” Holly says. “Can we find a better name for him? ‘The letter writer’ is so long and cumbersome. What about something shorter? A nickname.”

“Werewolf guy?” I say.

“Too bland.” Holly replies.

“The Alpha?”

“Too… realistic. That’s what he calls himself. We need our own name for him.”

“The Big Bad Wolf?” I suggest.

“Too long,” Holly sighs.

“Wolfie?” I suggest. Holly grins.

“Rose?” she asks. Rose just shrugs. I suppose she may not want to talk about him, especially not in such a frivolous manner. “Now that that’s settled, on to other news. What do you mean you saw him?”

“He was there, on the pitch. He stood in the middle, on the ground, with a camera. He was watching me.”

“Rose,” I say gently, “There was no one there. I looked, and when I started trying to help you, after you fell, you know, there was no one around. I looked, but he wasn’t there. He couldn’t have gotten through the defenses.”

“No, it was him,” she insists. “I saw him, and I panicked and blacked out.” I drop the subject and we sit in silence for a moment. Madame Pomfrey comes back with a goblet, stirring the contents. Rose wrinkles her nose.

“It’s not going to be pleasant, but you have to drink all of it,” she tells her. After the first sip, Rose gags. Halfway through the goblet, she looks ready to vomit. By the time she’s drained it, she is literally holding her mouth, and plugging her nose. “I did warn you.” Madame Pomfrey says before she goes. “You’ll have to spend the night here. Growing bones takes quite a while.”

“Oh no, Adams is going to kill me,” she groans. Robin Adams, our seventh year Quidditch captain, wants us all to attend tomorrow’s match, the first of the season. Gryffindor vs. Hufflepuff, and Adams wants to observe the teams’ strategies.

“Don’t you worry about that. Just come on, let’s put on some jams, yeah?” Holly says cheerfully, drawing the curtain. I step back, letting Holly help her.

“Scorp, I need help getting her arm in the sleeve,” Holly calls out. When I walk in, Rose’s face is scarlet, and she won’t look at me. Her shirt is only half on, only the right arm in. The buttons are open and I can see her pink and white striped bra. Holly is trying to force the left arm into the sleeve, but it’s being stubborn, true to Rose form.

“Stop trying to force it, just guide it,” I tell Holly. I hold the sleeve open, well aware of my proximity to Rose. It’s like my body is on fire, and she’s the gasoline. With my help, Holly slithers Rose’s arm into the sleeve and buttons up the shirt, to my disappointment, though I do hope I hide that.

“Now, the pain reliever potion. I must warn you, you may feel a little woozy. Have you ever heard of morphine, my dear?” Madame Pomfrey asks once she returns. She hold a vial of clear liquid.

“Muggle pain medicine, yeah?” she groans, clutching her arm. Probably one of those ‘growing pains’ Madame Pomfrey warned about.

“This works like that, sort of numbs everything. It’ll make you drowsy probably, but that should be okay,” she explains before giving Rose the vial. She gulps it down in one swallow. Suddenly, Professor Flitwick comes in, heading straight for her bed.

“What happened here?” he says gravely, his voice lower than I’ve ever heard it.

“I saw him,” Rose says earnestly. “The wolf was here, on school grounds.”

“My dear, that’s impossible. I’ve been in my office all afternoon, and any intrusions are reported directly there. Nothing has come in or out, besides the centaurs or a few insects and whatnot,” he tells her gently.

“No, he was there,” she insists. “He was on the ground, taking pictures. He was here. He must have slipped by the school’s enchantments somehow.” Red spots are forming on her cheeks and her eyes are watering.

“The borders have been reinforced, their enchantments strengthened to the point that I’m alerted when a butterfly flies into our midst,” he says, voice still gentle and soft as if he were speaking to an infant. Rose, always one to hate condescension, just grits her teeth.

“I know what I saw,” she says.

“Tell me what happened before and after you said you saw him,” he sighs, trying to change the topic. Rose just swallows, staring determinedly out the window.

“I took her out to the pitch to fly. I thought it might relax her a bit, and she says it helps her forget. We were out there for, like, an hour when suddenly, she just stopped. She looked around and she looked like she’d seen a ghost. Then she just fainted or something and fell off her broom. I tried to stop her, but I wasn’t fast enough. She tried to heal herself but she accidentally vanished the bones. She was bleeding and unconscious and so I brought her here.” I paused. “Professor, with all due respect, is there any way you could have missed something? You said a herd of wild centaurs crossed the boundaries. Could he have snuck in with them?” I ask. Professor Flitwick sighs again.

“It’s highly unlikely, but I suppose I could check again, go over the records.”

“Thank you, Professor,” I say sincerely. He smiles, wishes Rose well and disappears into Madame Pomfrey’s office, presumably to discuss Rose.

“He was there,” she whispers. “I saw him, I know I did.” She’s still staring fixedly out the window. Her eyes are sparkling, the color really illuminated by the tears. I could kick myself for admiring Rose’s looks instead of soothing her. I wipe the one tear that’s escaped down her cheek.

“I believe you,” I tell her. “So does Holly.” She nods.

“I’m not crazy,” she tells me, clutching my hand. I nod, kissing her knuckles. “Stay with me,” she pleads as her eyes start to close, the pain potion kicking in. I nod, curling up on the chair, pulling it as close to the bed as possible. As I close my eyes, I notice a small, calico cat, curling up right beneath Rose’s head.


	12. Growing Pains and Mental Strains

Chapter 12: Growing Pains and Mental Strains

  
  


Madame Pomfrey was not kidding about these ‘growing pains.’

The pain reliever potion doesn’t last very long, only about four hours. Or at least, that’s the first time I wake up, gritting my teeth. It feels like there are tiny spikes in my left arm,stabbing me from the inside. They’re pushing and shifting everything, shoving arteries and muscles out of the way. My bones are clearly very pushy.

“Rose, what’s wrong?” Scorpius mumbles, removing his arm from around my shoulder. He’s awkwardly splayed out, his torso lying on the bed, while his legs are dangling from his chair.

“Just hurts,” I say quietly. There’s a shift on the bed and I see a small cat, a calico, prancing towards Madame Pomfrey’s office.

“Time for more, Ms. Weasley?” she asks, holding a new vial of potion. “Is this your cat? Clever little fellow,” she grins. I look down at the calico, grinning.

“I do have a cat. His name is Sherlock. He’s not a particularly cuddly guy, but when he wants to, he’ll stay forever.” I shoot Scorpius a look. None of those are lies, but Sherlock is not a calico; Holly is. My grin turns to a grimace as the bones shift again. I swallow the potion just as the clock begins to chime.

“Look, Rosie,” Scorpius grins. “Happy Halloween.” As Madame Pomfrey closes the door to her office, I pat the spot next to me on the bed, shifting over to make room.

“Happy Halloween, Scorp,” I sigh once he’s lying more comfortably on the bed, one arm wrapped around my shoulders. Holly mews, making herself comfortable on my stomach. “Happy Halloween Hols,” I mumble, letting the potion take away the pain.

 

“Rosie, my favorite cousin, I need your help,” I hear James shout. The curtain is still pulled around my bed. I look around, ready to shove Scorpius out of bed (there’s no word to describe precisely how James would react), but I don’t see him. Holly the cat is still curled up near my feet, but Scorpius seems to have disappeared.

“What do you need James?” I groan, squinting as he yanks over the curtain. He grins at me, a lopsided grin that takes up his whole face. It’s his “I’m- gonna- pull- a- prank- this- school- has- never- seen- before” smile.

“Oh, I just need a little help with some wandwork, and some logistics. Gotta make that Ravenclaw brain of yours useful for something,” he winked. I rolled my eyes.

“You’re doing a Halloween prank? Isn’t that a bit… juvenile?” He put his hand over his heart, jaw dropping comically in a face of mock-horror.

“Rose, I am hurt! My pranks are never juvenile; they’re always incredibly mature and amusing for all.” I can’t help but snort.

“If you want my help, I need specifics.” He grins again, slapping his hands together and rubbing them, like some preposterous villian in an old muggle movie.

“So, let’s just say that, hypothetically, someone would want to change the hair colour of a large group of people. Not to any one specific colour, but rather random colours, like pink, lime green, electric blue, and the like. And in this hypothetical situation, the colour change were to happen at a specific moment?”

“That’s a basic set of colour change charms. You do know how to do this, yes?” He nods. “So that does the color. For the delayed reaction time, and the random choice for colouring, you have to make it a blanket charm. That’ll change the hair colour of anyone sitting in a certain area. Next?” After hearing all of James’ “hypothetical” pranking questions, I must say I do look forward to the feast tonight. After the door closes on him, there’s a shifting from under the bed. Imagining the letter-writer, or Wolfie as Holly preferred to call him, I reach for the lamp by my bedside table.

“Whoa, relax Rose!” Scorpius whispers. He just narrowly dodged my blow; I had swung the lamp when I heard the would-be intruder standing up. “I was just under the bed when I heard James coming,” he explains, putting a hand on my shoulder.

“How did you hear him?” I ask.

“My hearing has improved tremendously since we became animagi.” I nod, as mine has too. Probably a dog thing. “I was awake already, and I heard him coming so I hid. To be honest, James and Al scare me a little, with their ‘protective-big-brother’ act.”

“Not that you guys did anything,” Holly smirked. I jumped, not realizing that she had shifted back and was perched in human form on the end of my bed. I flush. “I was here the entire night. In cat form, of course, but I saw everything, you know.” She raises one eyebrow.

“Stop implying,” Scorpius grunts, “and start saying what you mean.” I notice he’s rather pink as well.

“Oh, stop being so stiff Scorp! Just loosen up a bit. I’m just joking. Rose knows that, right?” Holly elbows me. I smile weakly at her.

“I know you’re joking, but I don’t exactly enjoy sexual innuendos at my expense, considering my history,” I tell her, lowering my gaze. Holly now flushes pink.

“Right. Harvey. Sorry about that,” she mumbles. It’s my turn to elbow her, smiling now.

“So, since you heard everything, you know what to avoid tonight at the feast, for James’ pranks and whatnot, right?” My grin turns into a grimace accompanied by a yelp.

“Out, out, out,” Madame Pomfrey yells. “I have to evaluate my patient. I don’t need a group for this.” After they leave, she starts her diagnostic spells, asking me all of those wonderful questions about my pain level, my arm’s flexibility, how it feels, how I slept and if I still feel the pain. Finally, she gives me one last vial of pain potion, “to last you for the rest of the day,” before turning me out back into the school. Predictably, Holly and Scorpius were waiting outside for me, along with Dom, Hugo and Al.

“I didn’t hear about you until after curfew and nobody would let me come see you,” Hugo said, sticking his hands in his pocket. He dug his toe into the ground, clearly trying to act uncaring.

“We saw Scorpius carrying you in here last night, but Madame Pomfrey wouldn’t let us in,” Al explained.

“She said you needed rest,” Dom added. I nodded.

“Still pretty tired, I bet,” Al said. “Dad told me how that bloke Lockhart vanished his arm bones in second year and he was exhausted afterwards.”

“You would be too if you had to regrow bones. That’s why little kids sleep so much: growth is exhausting. I just had to go through 16 years worth of growth in one night.” I started walking, heading towards the Great Hall. Luckily, James wasn’t employing his pranks until the feast tonight to ensure maximum mayhem. “I just want to go up to bed.” Suddenly, Timothy Williams, the first year boy I tutor, turns the corner in front of me, nearly crashing into me.

“Rose, I was looking for you!” he squeaks. Poor Timmy’s voice hasn’t quite settled yet; in fact, it’s barely started cracking. “The Headmaster is looking for you. He said it’s imperative that you meet him immediately. I think you have visitors!” I sighed.

“Thanks Timmy, I’ll go right now,” I say, forcing a smile. It wouldn’t be right of me to be cross with him, seeing as he’s only delivering the message. He’s not conspiring to keep me awake. My entourage accompanies me to the Head’s office, where I find my parents sitting.

“Mum? Dad? What are you doing here?” Hugo asks.

“Mum? Why are you here?” Al asks a moment later. Dad clears his throat.

“Kids, could we have a moment with just Rose? We can all have a visit in a few moments,” he says quietly. They nod, dutifully filing out.

“Dear, Professor Flitwick here was just telling us about your accident. He said that you thought you saw your stalker on the Quidditch Pitch?” Mum says gently, putting a hand on my arm, pulling me to a seat next to her.

“I didn’t _think_ I saw him. I did see him,” I insist.

“Miss Weasley, please understand that we are not here to judge you. We are here to help you,” Flitwick adds. I do not believe it. Another bloody intervention. I must be setting some new record. First my dorm mates, now my parents and family.

“I don’t need this kind of help. What I need is for you people to find him, not sit here telling me this is a safe space,” I say, desperately trying to control my voice. Yelling won’t help me right now.

“Rosie, you’ve been under a lot of stress,” Dad says awkwardly, not quite looking in my eyes.

“It might be beneficial for you to talk to someone about this,” Mum adds gently. “A professional, perhaps. Someone who can help you.”

“You think I’m crazy. You think I imagined seeing him, don’t you?” I whisper. “My own parents think I’m crazy.”

“That’s not what this is,” Mum cried, tears filling her eyes. “We just want to help you!”

“People thought Uncle Harry was crazy, remember? He… didn’t they write about it in the papers? Said he made up seeing Voldemort, but he didn’t. I didn’t make up seeing him either,” I whispered, staring out the window.

“Rose, no one thinks you’re crazy,” Aunt Ginny whispered. She knelt down next to me. “But stress is a powerful thing. It can trick you, make you think you’re alone. It can put the weight of the world on your shoulders. It can make it hard to sleep, to eat, to do anything. We just want to help you manage your stress. That’s all.”

“I’m not crazy, and I don’t want a therapist,” I mutter stubbornly.

“Well, that’s too bad. You’re going to see someone. We’ve found someone who’s setting up a new office in Hogsmeade. She can work with you from there. Your Head of House will make arrangements for each visit. Someone will accompany you, like Al or James or Scorpius, to keep an eye out. This isn’t a debate,” Mum said, standing. She sniffed, and I knew she was probably still crying. “Tell Hugo we love him, and we’re sorry we had to leave.” With a burst of green flame, she walks into the fire, going home. Dad rises.

“We love you Rosie. Mum is just doing what she thinks is best,” he whispers, kissing the top of my head. Then he follows Mum into the fireplace.

“Just take a minute, breathe,” Aunt Ginny whispers. She rubs soothing circles in my back as I try to breathe, trying to fill my lungs. I feel dizzy, like I can’t fully catch my breath. “Just relax. You’re okay. Take a breath.”

“You have to talk to her,” I say after a moment. “You have to convince my parents that I don’t need to talk to a therapist, I don’t need to go down to Hogsmeade every Tuesday afternoon for tea with a head shrink! I’ll talk to Flitwick on a daily basis, or Madame Pomfrey, or anyone at the school, but not a professional! Please,” I beg.

“I’ll work on it. Maybe you can talk to someone by floo, or you could see Madame Pomfrey. She’s trained, I’ll bet.” Seeing my panicked look, she adds, “I’ll talk to her.” We sit for a few moments as I catch my breath. When I leave the office, I don’t say anything more, trusting her to talk to my parents. We find everyone waiting in the courtyard.

“Where’d mum and dad go?” Hugo asks. Aunt Ginny comes up behind me.

“They had to run on home; you know how it is for ministry workers. They wanted you to know they’re sorry they had to go and they love you,” she explained. Hugo turned red, grunting a response.

“Yeah, whatever. Glad you’re okay, Rose. I’m going back to find my friends and get some… er… homework done,” he says, running off down the hall.

“So, anyone fancy a walk?” Aunt Ginny asked, throwing an arm around Al’s shoulders. “Maybe some breakfast instead,” she suggests as my stomach growls. Al grumbles, shrugging her off.

“Al, be nice to your mum! We all know you’re a momma’s boy. No need to pretend,” Dom teases. Al reddens, jabbing at her shoulder.

“Albus Severus,” Ginny says her warning voice, which is possibly one of the scariest things ever. He turns ever redder and mumbles an apology.

“I could go for breakfast,” Holly shrugs. We nod, and walk down the corridors to the Great Hall, all the while, I try to forget that my own parents think I’m crazy.


	13. Halloween Hijinks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Up, up, up,” Holly shouted, shaking me. I groaned, swatting her. “Oh no, you’ve been sleeping all day and you told me to wake you up for the feast,” she continued. “The Halloween feast, remember? James planned all those pranks.” I open my eyes. “That’s my girl. Now, get dressed."

**Chapter 13: Halloween Hijinks**

  
  


“Up, up, up,” Holly shouted, shaking me. I groaned, swatting her. “Oh no, you’ve been sleeping all day and you told me to wake you up for the feast,” she continued. “The Halloween feast, remember? James planned all those pranks.” I open my eyes. “That’s my girl. Now, get dressed.” I do as she says, not responding as she jokes, telling me to move faster.

“What time is it?” I croak, still tired.

“Almost six. Come on, I don’t want to miss any of the fun,” she grins, dragging me towards the Great Hall. I run with her, not wanting to miss this either. Also, I don’t want to walk in the door too close to six, seeing as James’ prank does have a time set. We skid into the hall, finding Scorpius at the table and sliding in next to him.

“Is it time yet?” Holly whispers. Scorp checks his watch, discreetly nodding. None of us touch our drinks, watching as other students take large swigs, laughing and talking. Suddenly, there’s a great commotion. All over the hall, people are shouting, protesting and arguing. The room has become a zoo of bright colours. Everywhere I look, people are looking at their hair, accusing friends and enemies of changing the colour.

Al is furious that his hair is pink. Dom is ready to throw fireballs (and given her ancestry that is a possibility) because her hair is green. Alfie Clark is spitting mad with hair as red as a crayon. Lorcan and Lysander have bright purple hair, but neither looks all that bothered. Poor Timmy has electric blue hair, and is running around trying to find someone who can change it back.

Just as that begins to calm down and people realize it’s a simple colour-change charm, the next phase begins. Everywhere, we hear a cacophony of noise, lilting songs and poems. James had also interspersed potions that caused the affected to sing everything they say and charms that force a person to only speak in rhymes, limericks or sonnets.

“James Sirius Potter, it’s you I will slaughter because you’re a rotter. Damn you James Potter,” Al rhymes angrily, sounding like one of those muggle rappers he loves to listen to.

“Timmy has a really nice singing voice,” Holly giggles, watching as he sings to his friends, looking for someone to take the curse off. He still hasn’t changed his hair back either.

“What’s next?” I ask, leaning back to watch everything. A few girls next to me are giggling at the silly poems they’re forced to make.

“The doorway charm, remember?” Scorp reminds me. We turn and watch as the doorway shimmers. A shower of light falls from the top of the doorway, red, green and blue sparks falling down. A few students stop short of entering, understandably cautious. Someone shoves a young girl, probably first or second year, across the threshold. She squeals like she expects it to vaporise her, but nothing visible happens. The entire hall waits with bated breath. When it seems like nothing happens, the people waiting outside the door enter the Great Hall. It’s a few moments later when people realize what happened. The sparks took away their capacity for proper speech. In addition to rhymes and songs, now unintelligible grunts and shrieks fill the hall. There’s a flash, and a puff of smoke over at the Slytherin table, and someone yelps.

“Oh my God,” Holly laughs.

“What?” Scorp asks, standing. He catches sight of something and starts laughing. There’s a mass movement, people standing to look, others shoving to get closer and one person struggling against the mass of people, running away.

“He didn’t,” I deadpan.

“Oh, but he did,” James says, grinning. He points his finger and I watch as Harvey pushes against the crowd, desperately trying to cover himself. The puff of smoke must have vanished his clothes, as he’s trying to run in only his underwear. James points his wand and Harvey stands still. He pulls at his trainers, but they’re stuck to the floor. He’s quickly turning red. The noise grows louder in the hall as everyone pushes to see the Great Harvey Smith in his pale, naked, pink-haired glory.

“You can see why Rose held out on him, I mean, look at him,” someone sang from behind me.

“Oh yes, he is ugly, and pale, gross and hairy. Perhaps he should shave, and bathe so he isn’t quite so scary,” someone rhymes back. There’s a great boom and several red firecrackers explode above us.

“ENOUGH,” Professor Swan bellows. The hall falls silent. “Who is responsible for this?” James clears his throat and a large, blue banner unfurls.

_Happy Halloween Hogwarts! Your favorite mischief maker, James._

“I should’ve known,” Professor Swan mutters. To everyone he yells, “Anyone who is affected by a color change charm, please make your way to Professor Vastra. Anyone affected by a singing or rhyming charm, Professor Flitwick can help you. Anyone unable to speak, come see Professor Chang. James Potter, you will be coming with Professor Longbottom and me.” There’s a rush of movement as everyone goes to their respective teacher. A small group of unaffected students files out. I start to leave when James sneaks along with us.

“Potter,” Professor Longbottom calls out, clapping James on the shoulder. “Stop right here.” When the crowd thins, I notice we’re standing two yards away from Harvey, still stuck to the floor. “Mr. Smith, you can leave. I suggest you find some clothes,” Professor Longbottom says gently. Harvey goes red, clenching his fists.

“Would if I could sir, but Potter’s stuck my shoes to the floor,” he grunted, his voice two octaves higher than usual.

“Just slip out of your shoes and get out of here, Smith,” Professor Swan sneers. I suppose there’s no love between Harvey and his Head of House. Harvey complies, awkwardly running out of the hall.

“Is there anything I can do for you, Rose?” Professor Longbottom asks.

“Oh, no sir, I suppose not. I was just-”

“Just getting on. Have a nice night, sir,” Scorpius interrupts, steering me out of the hall. “Sorry, I just didn’t want to give Swan a reason to give us detention. You know he hates me.”

“Tell us Scorp, why is it that he hates you?” Holly drolls, rolling her eyes.

“I bet my granddad pissed in his pumpkin juice or something. They were schoolmates. I’m convinced it’s Granddad Lucius’ fault.” I laugh as we go; Scorp changes the story every time. Sometimes he says Lucius beat him in a duel, or quidditch, or dropped frogspawn on him. Sometimes he says Lucius did something to him in the war. Other times he claimed good old-fashioned Pure-blood rivalry. Either way, Professor Swan hates Scorpius. When we reach the common room entrance, we hear a mumbling, not particularly uncommon for Ravenclaws. We have a tendency to think out loud, particularly when trying to puzzle out the knocker’s riddle.

“Hey, need help?” Holly asks. A young girl, a first year most likely, jumps, taking a big step back, hitting the wall. Her eyes widen, and she quickly looks down at her feet, mumbling something.

“Amber, right?” Scorp says, smiling. “What’s the riddle?”

“What defines success?” she says shyly.

“What did you say as a response? Did you try anything already?” I ask her.

“Um, well, I sort of haven’t answered yet,” she said awkwardly.

“Why not?” Holly asks.

“I wanted to be sure I was right, and nothing I was thinking of made any sense.”

“How would you have known it was right if you never tried an answer out? I personally believe that success is defined by achieving an expected outcome in a situation,” I tell her. I glance at the door, knowing it won’t open. “But the knocker disagrees.”

“So, you didn’t want to give an answer because you didn’t want to be wrong?” Scorpius clarifies. Amber nods.

“What were you thinking? You said your thoughts didn’t seem to make sense. Maybe we can puzzle them out together,” I offer.

“Well, I was thinking about the implications of success. Sometimes an expected outcome can be dangerous, or can cause another failure, or something. I don’t know,” she mumbled.

“No that’s good, I totally understand. Like the muggle’s Manhattan Project was technically a success. They did what they set out to do, but the results of that were a complete disaster. The atomic bomb killed hundreds of thousands of people, and nuclear power in general destroyed lives. The Chernobyl nuclear disaster, the genetic damage of radioactivity, the environmental damage are all terrible disasters that came from the success of the Manhattan Project,” Scorpius explains.

“But success is a process, trial and error. We can’t succeed without failure. We have to learn from our mistakes,” Holly adds.

“What do you think?” I ask Amber. She just blinks.

“Well, if success often causes failures, and we have to learn from those failures and mistakes to find success, then what does that say?” I prompt gently.

“Success comes from mistakes. Success isn’t the absence of making mistakes. Success is making lots of mistakes, but moving on and learning from them,” she says slowly. The door swings open, and Amber beams up at us.

“I did it!” she cries out. “I’ve never made it open before. I’m always stuck outside until an older student answers for me!” She runs inside, laughing.

“I love when that happens,” Holly sighs. An owl flaps in, dropping a bright red envelope on the couch. “I hate when that happens,” she sighs again. The owl perches on the arm of the couch, watching me.

“Wait, I have a reply for you to take back,” I tell it, summoning the letter I had written earlier.

“You have a what?” Scorpius asks. I ignore him, attaching my own scroll to the owl. As soon as I finish attaching it, the owl hops up and flies away.

“A reply. I’m sick of him having the only say. He’s doing all the talking, and I had something to say.” I shrug, tearing open the letter.

“I think you should stop reading these,” Holly says quietly. “Maybe just give them right to Professor Flitwick. Don’t look at me like that! I just worry about how this is affecting you.”

“I need to know what they say.”

 

_My Dearest Rose,_

_I’m so terribly sorry about your accident. It saddens me so very much to find you’re in pain. I have felt pain very similar to that; the life of a werewolf can be a dangerous one. But fear not, my love, I will protect you from any danger, just as any good Alpha will do for his Luna (The Luna is the term for the Alpha’s mate)._

_I cannot wait to see you in person, to be able to hold you. I want to run my hands through your hair, lose myself in your scent. When we meet, I know that you will want me, too. You will see my strength and you will run to me. You will submit to your Alpha, and we will be reunited._

_All my love,_

_Me_

 

“This isn’t good for you,” Holly insists, holding out this letter’s photograph as evidence. It’s a photo of me, flying on the Quidditch Pitch. I’m racing with Scorpius around the Pitch, in full Quidditch uniform.

“I need to see it. I can’t know that they’re coming and not know what they’re saying,” I tell her plainly, folding the letter back up.

“Alright Hols, just, just give her a break. What did you write in your letter to him?” Scorpius asks.

“Here, I made a copy. I figured I should have a complete record of our correspondence. I’m gonna give it to the Aurors. It’s not like I’m hiding this.” I hand them the copy of my letter.

 

_Hello,_

_I feel like you know so much more about me than I do about you, and it does put me at a disadvantage. I don’t even know your name! Perhaps if you could give me something, our relationship would only grow._

_You keep saying we’ve met before, but I can’t seem to figure it out for the life of me where we’ve met before. I would love to hear the story of our meeting. All of my friends ask where we’ve met but I don’t have a story for them. Other people have the story of how they bumped into each other in Diagon Alley. Others met at a muggle diner. The story of our meeting would also answer a few of my questions. Why did you choose me, out of all the other girls out there? What made me so special? I do hope you’ll help me figure this out._

_Rose_

  
“Rose, you shouldn’t do this, you-” Holly is interrupted by the owl returning, another red envelope clamped in its beak.


	14. Hogsmeade

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “He’s got to be close for the response to have come so quickly,” Holly whispers as if he can hear us.  
> “We have to take this to someone. The Aurors can look into the immediate area, find him faster,” Scorpius whispers hurriedly, standing up.   
> “Wait, wait I just need a moment. I just… I have to read it,” I hissed, pulling him back.

Chapter 14: Hogsmeade

  
  


“He’s got to be close for the response to have come so quickly,” Holly whispers as if he can hear us.

“We have to take this to someone. The Aurors can look into the immediate area, find him faster,” Scorpius whispers hurriedly, standing up.

“Wait, wait I just need a moment. I just… I have to read it,” I hissed, pulling him back.

“Rose, read and walk. If we wait on this, there could be serious consequences. They could miss their chance to get him!” he says. “Here, make a copy. _Geminio_.” He hands me the copy of the letter, grabbing the real letter out of my hand.

“Rose, come on now. Let’s get moving,” Holly says gently, pulling me to my feet. Scorpius leaps into action, swinging the door open. Hordes of students are now returning from the feast, properly coloured and grumbling without rhyming. Scorpius pushes through, making a path. I follow meekly behind, opening the envelope.

 

_My Dear Rose,_

_You have a point. I want my mate to know everything about me, to love me before we meet. I want you to fall in love with me, as I fell in love with you all those years ago. And so, I will relent and tell you the story of our meeting._

_Before I jump into the story, you must understand a werewolf custom that our Original Alpha (Fenfir Greyback to you) put in place. Under His rule, all werewolves had to choose a mate by age 13. On the first moon of their thirteenth year, they claimed their mate as their own. Some wolves chose to mate within the pack, while others chose human mates and turned them. When our Alpha was replaced and the packs splintered off, my pack leader changed the rules. He stated that only male werewolves could choose from outside the pack, whereas females could only pick from pack members._

_When I was twelve, I spent a year traveling in search of my mate. I searched all of England, Scotland, Ireland and even America, searching in known wizarding areas, even looking amongst common muggles. Finally, I went to France one sunny afternoon, having given up my search, instead choosing to look for a distraction. While there, I found you._

_You were just an infant then, a child sitting in a stroller while her mother chattered on to her father. I almost walked right by you, but then you got my attention. Whilst your parents were occupied, you tossed your toy, a raggedy old stuffed bear. It landed at my feet. You reached for it, distressed that you couldn’t get it, and I picked it up for you. When I handed it to you, I felt a pull unlike anything I have ever felt before.It drew me to you, beckoning me to protect you, possess you. You met my eyes and smiled, cooing at me. I knew right then that I had to have you. You and I are destined to be together. As to why I picked you, I didn’t. You threw the bear at me. You chose me, my love._

_My pack leader felt you were too young to be turned, and so I began to wait. I maintained my connection to you by staying near, keeping a photo album of your life. I fell in love with you through these images, as I hope you’ll fall in love with me. I’ve included a picture of me so that you may have something to look at when you’re lonely._

_As for my name, for now you may call me Jack._

_All my love,_

_Me_

 

“Mr. Malfoy, Misses Brooks and Weasley, I do hope this can wait. As you can imagine, I’m rather busy dealing with the… shall we say… ‘festivities’ your cousin Mr. Potter provided for tonight.” Professor Flitwick said breezily. I hadn’t even noticed that we were at his door.

“It’s an emergency, Professor. Rose got a letter again, but then something different happened,” Scorpius said. He took one look at me then ushered me into his office.

“Professor Longbottom, Mr. Potter, do take this elsewhere. I have an appointment I must meet,” he said. James looked at me, mouthing ‘you okay?’ I shook my head but gestured for him to move.

“Professor, he’s got to be in Hogsmeade,” Scorp said quickly, as soon as the door closed. “You have to get the aurors, have them search.”

“Stop, stop, stop. How do you know this?”

“The letter. Rose sent a reply and within minutes he sent another letter, replying to hers. For it to have gotten here so fast, he had to be in Hogsmeade,” Holly explains. Professor Flitwick doesn’t speak, just sends out a Patronus. Within moments, the aurors are running in. I still don’t quite understand how they move so fast.

“Yes, sir?” Auror Smith asks.

“Miss Brookes, please tell the auror what you just told me.” Holly quickly recaps the situation. Auror Smith sticks her hand out and I give her all of the letters. As she’s reading one of them, the envelope shifts and a photo falls out. It’s him, the letter writer, Jack.

It was taken in front of Zonko’s. I can see the corner of the sign in the background. It’s easier to focus on the background, on the dark storefronts, on the cobbled streets. It’s easier to see this rather than look at his face. He’s right, the sketch really does him no justice. Before I can really start to look, Auror Smith summons it out of my hands.

“I’ve sent a patronus. They’re in Hogsmeade now,” Auror Jensen says tersely.

“This looks recent,” Auror Smith says darkly. “He probably took it just before he sent it. The colors haven’t even properly settled in the print.”

“What does this mean?” Scorpius asked. The portrait of Professor McGonagall clears her throat.

“It means, Mr. Malfoy, that things just got a lot more serious.”

 

“Mum, I’m scared,” I whispered. After a few more terse conversations in Flitwick’s office, he called my parents in. After leaving Dad to talk to the aurors and get the information, she took me to Uncle Harry’s house, thinking I’d feel safer there.

“Tea?” Aunt Ginny offered. As she walks, she kicks a few stuffed animals out of the way. “Sorry,” she offers. “Since Vic is due any day now, Harry and I are taking care of Cecilie. You know he’s such a softie for her.” She rolls her eyes, still smiling.

“Ceci is here?” I ask.

“Asleep upstairs. We set up the guest room for her.” We sit, sipping our tea in silence.

“Mum, why is he here? Why does he care so much?”

“We can’t know for sure, ever. I mean, he’s clearly delusional. His mind has been poisoned since he was a child by Fenfir and whomever took over for him. To put it plainly, he’s a lunatic. We can’t rationalize his behavior.”

“You know they’ll get him,” Ginny says softly, patting my knee. There’s a sudden burst of green and Uncle Harry steps out of the fireplace.

“Harry,” I shout, running to hug him. He wraps his arms around me, and I feel better, if only for a moment.

“What happened? Where’s Ron?” Mum asks.

“He wanted to go on the search in Hogsmeade, but the aurors told him he was too personally involved. They’re probably worried he would kill the guy before bringing him in, if he were to find him. So they let him organize the search.”

“The big idiot is probably planning on staying there all night to wait for information.” Aunt Ginny rolls her eyes.

“You know him too well,” Harry said sarcastically, grinning weakly. “Anyways, how are you, love?” I shrugged.

“I don’t know. Just, erm, well I don’t know. Scared. Confused. Angry. Terrified. Lonely. Worried. I don’t know,” I sniffled, wrapping my arms around my torso.

“No one will touch you. He won’t get anywhere near you if I have anything to say about it,” Ginny said.

“Do you think, um… Mum, could I stay here tonight? I just… It might make me feel better,” I asked.

“No question. You’ll sleep here. If it helps you feel safer, you can move in here if you want. Anything for my favorite goddaughter.” He kisses me on the forehead before disappearing into the floo.

“Rose, I can get you a sleeping potion, just for tonight. It might help,” Ginny says gently. I don’t say anything, instead just meandering up the stairs. At the second landing, I turn left, following the hall all the way down to the second door on the left. This is the guest room, the room I always stay in when I’m here. But of course, I had forgotten that Cecilie was staying here. So naturally, this is where she is sleeping. She brought her own bed over from her house, a smaller bed. It has a bumper on the outside, sort of like a modified crib, just in case she falls out.

I kneel beside her bed, not entirely sure what I’m doing. She looks so small and so innocent, curled up underneath her blanket like a cat. _Oh God_ , I think to myself. _Sherlock is still at school._ I reach out, stroking her hair, pushing a loose lock behind her ear. Mum pushes the door open and hands me a cup. She doesn’t say anything, just carefully helps me pull on some pyjamas and lays me down on the bed, tucking me in as if I’m Cecilie’s age again.

“This isn’t going to last forever, you know. Get some sleep, love,” she whispers.

“Mum, I won't really have to talk to a therapist in Hogsmeade, will I? Particularly if he’s there in town, like, watching,” I ask quietly.

“No, Rose. We’ll talk to Madame Pomfrey and that intern of hers, Madame Moore. You can just go to them when you need to talk. Go to sleep,” she whispered, pressing the cup to my lips. She sits on the bed with me until I fall asleep.


	15. Chez Potter

**Chapter 15: Chez Potter**

 

There’s no greater feeling than waking up in the morning. I open my eyes to the sun streaming through my window. Sitting there, bathed in the light, I am able to forget for a moment. For one, glittering, perfect moment, I forget exactly where it is that I am waking up. And why. But of course, this feeling only lasts a moment, and then it all comes crashing down.

The letter. The reply. The search. My mother, pulling me into the floo. The subsequent panic. The sleeping potion.

“Rosie!” Cecilie shouts with a giggle, calling out to me. I force myself to open my eyes, turning over on my side. She reaches over the bumper on her bed, reaching out to me. I reach for my wand and levitate her out of bed. She’s laughing and squealing when I put her down on the bed next to me. “Again, again!” she cries. I smile as she pounces on my stomach.

“Morning, love,” I whisper, mostly because she knocked the wind out of me. “How did you sleep?”

“Why you here, Rose?” she asks. I shrug, pushing her off my lap and sitting up. She wraps her arms around my neck and I stand up, carrying her down to the kitchen.

“I missed you, Ceci. That’s why I came,” I tell her simply. She squirms as we’re going down the stairs and I put her down on the bottom landing. She takes off running into the living room, scooping up toys as she goes. I watch her for a moment as she sets them up in a half-circle, all facing the couch. She mumbles to them as she does it.

“Rose?” Aunt Ginny calls out. I leave Cecilie in the living room and find practically my entire family sitting in the kitchen. Dad and Uncle Harry are standing by the counter, pouring themselves a cup of coffee.  Aunt Ginny, Mum, Aunt Audrey, Uncle Percy, Uncle Bill, Uncle Charlie, and Uncle George sit at the table. Aunt Angelina is standing next to the stove, making breakfast. They all swivel their heads to look at me when I walk in.

“Morning,” Uncle George drawls with a smile.

“Dad, Uncle Harry, what happened?” I ask them. Dad turns back to me guiltily, half a pancake flopping out of his mouth.

“We didn’t find him, but we think we found the place where he had been staying,” Uncle Harry says quickly.

“A motel room in a rather rundown part of Hogsmeade, one where students aren’t permitted to go,” Uncle Percy adds.

“Not like they’d want to,” Uncle Charlie mutters. Realizing everyone heard him, he adds, “What? It’s a seedy, gross little part of the town. I wouldn’t want to go there when I could be in the Three Broomsticks or Zonko’s.” At that moment, Cecilie comes running in. She skids to a stop and pulls on my arm.

“Rosie, pay wif me,” she says, pulling me back towards the living room. My eyes glance over to the clock above the stove.

“I can’t, love. I have to get back to school and go to class,” I tell her gently. I’m already late for my first lesson, but I’m sure Professor Longbottom will understand.

“Ah, actually kiddo, classes are cancelled today,” Dad says, clearing his throat. “That’s what we were going to tell you.” Cecilie is still pulling on me, whining, “Rose, come pay wif me, come on!” There’s a moment of tense silence.

“Cecilie, could I come play instead? Give ze grownups a chance to talk _mon_ _cherie_ ,” Fleur says gently. Cecilie pouts, but takes her grandmother’s hand instead, mumbling “ _oui_ _mimi_.” I think for a moment about how young Fleur is to already be a grandmother. I mean, Vic was only 19 when she had Cecilie. I think she was… shall we say ‘unplanned’? Vic and Teddy had only recently gotten engaged when they found out, after all. Nonetheless, Fleur looks good as a granny. Must be those damn Veela genes. Why must I be a Weasley?

“Classes are cancelled?” I say softly. “Why? Does everyone… Oh God. Does everyone know about this? What happened? Did someone get hurt?” My mind is racing a million miles a second, a thousand terrible possibilities playing out. Scorpius is dead. The Alpha broke into the school. Someone found out about the letters and now the entire school is talking about it. Voldemort came back from the dead (again), sided with the Alpha and is determined to kill me.

“Rose, stop. Breathe,” Mum says, gently shaking me by the shoulder. “Damnit Rose, I said breathe!” Uncle George gives me a good thump on the back and I start coughing, gasping for air I hadn’t realized I needed. “Stop overthinking and just let us explain. One of these days, you’ll think yourself into a panic attack, I swear it.”  

“The school is under lockdown because… And there’s no easy way to say this, but… We found reason to believe that one of your stalker’s followers has infiltrated the school,” Harry says. Everyone shifts uncomfortably, waiting for me to react.

I breathe in.

“Lockdown,” I say softly. “The school is on lockdown.” I pause, breathe in again. “There’s a Blood Cub in the school.” Another pause. Another breath. “And you don’t know who the hell it is, do you?”

“No, we don’t. All we know is that it’s likely a first-year, someone who came in with the new kids. This person slipped in undetected, just another new face. It’s likely that this is how your stalker seems to know everything that’s going on with you.” Uncle Bill looks down as he speaks.

“But, don’t worry Rose. Rest assured knowing that the ministry and the auror office are working to rectify the situation. We’ll find this intruder; don’t worry,” Uncle Percy says pompously. Somehow, his arrogant, self-assured manner does manage to calm me. Just a little.

“I have to get to school.” I stand up, moving towards the fireplace. “I have to be there.” Uncle Charlie grabs my arm, pulling me back.

“Rose, love, you can’t go back right now. The school is under lockdown. No one goes in, and no one goes out,” Mum explains gently.

“I have to go. I can’t just not be there. Everyone will notice. I’ll just… We’ll send a message to the Headmaster. He can let us in, right?” I stand up again, finally making it into the living room. Fleur is sitting crosslegged on the ground across from all of Cecilie’s teddy bears and whatnot, sipping air from a plastic tea cup.

“Rosie! Pay wif me,” she shouts, jumping up. Fleur smiles, standing slowly. I quickly take her place, and Cecilie pounces on my lap, pretending to pour tea for me.

“Ceci, love, I have to go back to school soon,” I tell her softly. She pouts up at me, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Barely three years old and already using that move? It’s gotta be the veela thing.

“Nobody ever pays wif me,” she pouts. “You’re gonna pay wif mommy and daddy’s new baby instead.”

“Hey, Ceci, did I forget to tell you?”

“What?” she asks, tilting her head up at me.

“No matter what this new baby is like, I’ll still love you just the same. Did mommy and daddy tell you a heart never runs out of love, it just makes more?” I happen to know they told her that. I gave them the idea. It’s what Mum and Dad told me when Mum was pregnant with Hugo. As predicted, she nods up at me.

“So, why don’t we focus less on this new baby and more on playing with me before I have to leave? Maybe you can show me your French words,” I ask her, tickling her sides. She giggles, squirming and writhing.

“I can count to ten now,” she says proudly, holding up her fingers. “ _Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six, sept, huit, neuf, dix_.”

“C’est fantastique Cecilie,” I tell her. “That’s great!” I translate, after seeing her confusion. She smiles again. “How many fingers do I have up?”

“ _Cinq_ ,” she says, pointing to my hand.

“How many stuffed animals are having tea with us?”

“ _Neuf_.”

“This is really great, dears, but it is time for Rose to get going,” Dad interrupts. To me, he adds, “Your mum sent Headmaster Flitwick a Patronus. He said he could lift the shield on his floo for only a minute. So you have to go at precisely 10:00.”

“That’s an hour away,” I told him, as if he didn’t already know.

“We need to talk to you about the… er… situation,” he said awkwardly. I stood up, wrapping Cecilie around me. She swung her legs around my torso, and her arms around my neck, like a monkey.

“So, I want a step-by-step breakdown of what happened last night, and what’s happened this morning,” I barked out.

“Well, the aurors arrived and split up into search teams. Your father and I were in the Headmaster’s office, leading and coordinating the efforts. Over near the Hog’s Head, there’s an old, sort of seedy motel. When searching the corridors, aurors found an open door. The room looked as if it had just been evacuated. There were books open, papers and ink bottles on a desk. The beds were unmade, and it was clear that at least one person had been living there,” Uncle Harry said.

“Upon examining the contents of the room more closely, they discovered the red envelopes that were used to send all of your letters,” Dad added. “Then we got an official notice from the Ministry and we seized all of the contents from the room. We read every scrap of paper, takeout menu and shop receipt in that bloody room.”

“Ron, there are little ears in here,” Mum said quietly, putting a hand on him. She gestured over to Cecilie who was still clinging to me.

“Right, sorry,” he grunted.

“Anyways, the aurors found correspondence, more letters in the trash. They were letters from Hogwarts, but from a student. None of them are signed, nor do they give anything away about the child’s identity. All we know is that it’s a first year, and a member of the Blood Cubs who refers to your stalker as ‘Alpha’. That’s when Flitwick put the entire school on lockdown,” Uncle Charlie adds.

“Define ‘lockdown’,” I said.

“Well, no one gets in or out, except through Flitwick’s floo. Not even bugs or animals can get past these barriers. They’re like the spells we put up during the Battle of Hogwarts. Anything that tries to cross gets vaporized. Rather nasty business, but necessary,” Harry told me.

“What do the students know? Are they still going to classes?”

“All students are confined to their dormitory. No classes, meals are brought to the dorms. Teachers are posted outside of the dormitory, ensuring that no student tries to sneak out. Windows are enchanted to throw back any student who tries to sneak out of a window via a broom. All fireplaces have anti-floo locks.”

“What do the students know? What did you tell them? Are they talking about it? Are they allowed to send owls? What are parents saying? What is going on?”

“All the students know is what we told them: that there is a danger to them, a danger within the school. No owls can leave the school, but Flitwick sent a message via his floo. Parents are frantic, naturally, but continued auror presence is helping to ease their minds, I would hope,” Uncle Percy says.

“We don’t know exactly what rumours are circulating, but it is likely that there are some fantastic stories,” George grins impishly. Aunt Angelina swats him.

“How are you planning on finding the Blood Cub member? The… er… intruder,” I ask, unsure of what else to call this person.

“Well, all of the students are being interviewed. Each is given the chance to come clean, spill any secrets. They’re asked, very discreetly, about lycanthropy, and we contact parents. Unless we get an order from the Ministry, we can’t use Veritaserum to compel answers.”

“My life is at stake here and the ministry won’t sign a bloody piece of paper?” I whisper, my voice shaking.

“What’s wrong, Rosie?” Cecilie says softly, putting her hand at my face.

“The ministry has to look at the ethics. They don’t want to condone the widespread use of Veritaserum for what is, essentially, a fishing expedition. We don’t have a suspect, or even a narrowed pool of suspects. All we know for sure is that a werewolf is at Hogwarts, and this werewolf is a first year working with your stalker. It’s-” Dad is interrupted by Uncle Percy.

“It’s a complete abuse of power to even suggest it. The use of one of the most powerful potions in the world on one hundred eleven year olds is preposterous to even suggest! And then there’s the precedent we’d set. It would condone the use of Veritaserum in large quantities on any one, anywhere! Any suspect of a crime could be force-fed the potion. After all, if we let first years drink it, it must be safe! This is not some flimsy little school rule you can bend, Rose. This is a law that must be upheld.”

“Percy, darling,” Aunt Audrey said quietly. Uncle Percy just sipped his tea, as if the entire room wasn’t gaping open mouthed at him. Well, Dad was the only one who had recovered from his shock and was now glaring.

“I don’t bloody care. It could be a school rule, a law, a social standard or it could be one of the bloody _ten_ _commandments_. If it will save my daughter, I will do it,” he said lowly.

“Rules exist for a reason, Ronald. Now, it’s no wonder you don’t understand this, seeing how you spent your time at school. Flouting every rule, educational decree, and even law! I daresay that you’re setting quite an example for your children,” he chuckled to himself. No one was laughing along. Even Audrey looked rather shocked with him.

“Out,” Aunt Ginny growled. He widened his eyes at her. From what I’d been told, Ginny was the one who got along best with Percy.

“Wh-what? Why?” he spluttered.

“You will not sit here, in _my_ house and insult my niece, nor my brother. Nor will you insinuate that there is anything wrong with the example they set for their children. If you remember, _Percy_ ,” she spit his name out like it was poisonous, “it was _your_ love of rules and laws nearly cost you your entire family in the war. I thought you had learned your lesson about what family means. Seeing as you haven’t, I want you to leave.” Her face was redder than her hair and the look in her eyes screamed “don’t test me.”

“Ginevra, be reasonable,” Percy pleaded.

“Don’t push me, Percy. I will hex you if you don’t get out of my house,” she growled. Aunt Audrey was pulling at Percy’s arm, rushing him out the front door. At the last moment, she ran back in, grabbing the scarf she had left.

“I’m sorry. I hope they find that man Rose, whatever it takes,” she whispers, squeezing my hand as she passes. I watch her small frame scurry out the door. It wasn’t until we heard the tell-tale _CRACK_ of disapparition that the room seemed to breathe.

“Well, that was fun,” George said sarcastically. Cecilie’s grip tightened on my arm and she whimpered.

“Did I scare you, Ceci?” Ginny whispered, creeping forward. She whimpered against me, answering Ginny’s question. “I’m sorry I got so loud and angry. You know I wasn’t angry with you, right?”

“It hurted my ears,” she sniffled. Ginny put her arms out and Cecilie crawled into them, snuggling with her.

“Well, I am very sorry about that. Do you think some ice cream might help?” she asked slyly. Cecilie’s shout of glee chased away any remaining tension in the room. I just managed to finish my bowl before I was standing in front of the fireplace.

“We’ll get him. This is just a hiccough in the road. Don’t doubt your old man just yet,” Dad whispered as he held me close. He kissed my head one more time, but as the clock struck ten, I leapt into the flames, emerald green swirling around me, and I left the Potter house behind.


	16. Lockdown

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ah, Miss Weasley, right on time. Not that I expected any different,” Professor Flitwick chuckled. “Now, I presume your parents have updated you on the events since last night?”   
> “Yes, sir,” I told him. “I know the school is on lockdown, too. Should I just go to the dormitory now?”  
> “Well, we would like to debrief you on what is currently going on. The usual, what you can tell people, what they know and whatnot.”

**Chapter 16: Lockdown**

 

“Ah, Miss Weasley, right on time. Not that I expected any different,” Professor Flitwick chuckled. “Now, I presume your parents have updated you on the events since last night?”

“Yes, sir,” I told him. “I know the school is on lockdown, too. Should I just go to the dormitory now?”

“Well, we would like to debrief you on what is currently going on. The usual, what you can tell people, what they know and whatnot.”

“Yes sir,” I said quietly, taking a seat in front of his desk.

“Now, I first want to assure you that the school is taking every precaution possible to protect not only you, but also all of our students. That being said, we cannot forgo any legal procedures or risk the rights of our students and staff. We are not currently allowed to use Veritaserum in order to discover who the intruder is in this school, however we are working on narrowing our pool of candidates. Once the pool is significantly smaller, the Ministry will grant us use of the potion.”

“How are you narrowing the pool of candidates?” I ask. The portrait of Phineas Nigellus snorts and tsks unpleasantly.

“Not for students to discuss,” he stage-whispered derisively to the portrait next to him. I flushed, but didn’t look at him.

“All I can tell you is that we’re interviewing anyone who fits the general age range that our mystery person might be,” Flitwick said promptly, shooting Professor Nigellus’ portrait a look.

“I thought we knew it was a first year?”

“Upon closer inspection, we’ve found that the age range could be a bit larger than just first years. Now, I really can’t discuss any more specifics about which students we’re looking at. I must respect the laws regarding their right to privacy,” Flitwick said resolutely, standing up. “Auror Lewis will take you to your dormitory. I’m sure your parents told you about the lockdown. I do hope you understand, but I am rather busy at the moment. Fielding every parent’s letters, care packages, and questions about the necessity of this investigation is quite a difficult task.”

“I am sorry, Professor. This entire mess is… It’s all my fau-”

“No, Rose,” he said sharply, cutting me off. “This is not your fault. None of this is. You did not choose to become to object of a crazy man’s desire. We are going to protect you. Now, I believe Auror Lewis is here.” He began looking through the papers on his desk as a young Auror stepped into the office, beckoning for me.

“Thank you, Professor,” I said quietly, turning and following the Auror. He was young, probably a rookie. We didn’t speak as he took me to Ravenclaw Tower. I spent the entire, awkward walk studying him. His arms swung as he walked, but every time his left arm brushed his body, his fingers twitched and slowed, rubbing his pocket. He was probably left handed, probably checking his wand was still there. I wonder if he had been mugged before.

I found it much easier to focus on the Auror and his mannerisms than to focus on the emptiness of the halls. I would call it a ghost town, but even the ghosts weren’t around. The portraits were subdued, all sleeping or gone, probably visiting friends to relieve the boredom. There was a hush over the entire place, and our echoing footsteps didn’t make it better.

When we finally reached Ravenclaw Tower, I found Professor Vastra prowling around just outside the door, her wand out. Professor Vastra is the relatively new Muggle Studies professor. She came on the year before I came to Hogwarts, but I’ve never taken her subject. With Mum being muggle born, and regular visits to Nana and Grampa Granger, I didn’t find it necessary.

“Auror Lewis, where did she come from?” Professor Vastra said shrewdly, narrowing her eyes at me.

“Don’t worry Jane,” Auror Lewis said with a chuckle. I was surprised to hear how deep his voice was. “She didn’t get past your eagle-eye vigilance. She took the floo into Flitwick’s office. Headmaster wanted me to escort her to her common room.” Professor Vastra was still narrowing her eyes at me.

“And just where were you, young lady?” she said suspiciously.

“I was at home, ma’am. I had had a medical issue and needed to see my parents,” I said promptly.

“Yes, well, don’t think I won’t check with the Headmaster once my shift is over,” she said. Turning on her heel, she raised the knocker.

“ _What potion grows in power the less you use it?_ ” the knocker sings. I bite my lip.

“Wouldn’t be as simple as a strengthening solution, eh?” Auror Lewis laughs. “I was a Gryffindor, myself. I’ve no idea.” He laughs again.

“No, nothing like that. Most potions have a tendency to lose potency as time goes on, a sort of reaction to sitting on a shelf. Happens to muggle medicines too,” I muttered. “Maybe it’s not the potion itself, but the effects?” I thought about all the potions I’ve studied. Then, a memory came to me, a story Dad had told me about a wonky potion from his sixth year. “Amortentia is one of the only types of potions where the effects are intensified the longer it waits.” Nothing happens. “Alright, well, real love grows the less you rely on love potion,” I try.

“ _Excellent answer_ ,” the knocker answers. The door swings open. I nod to Professor Vastra and Auror Lewis before going into the common room.

“Rose?”

“Rose?!”

“Rose, where were you?”

“Oh my God, you were _outside_?”

“Rose, what’s going on out there?”

“Hi Rose!” Everyone started shouting to me at once. I blink for a moment, trying to take everything in at once. There are more people in here than I’ve ever seen before, even more than there are during exam week. It feels like everyone’s all crammed in tight, everyone reaching out to me. I take a step back but end up hitting the wall.

“Oi, give her room to breathe,” Scorpius yells, pushing through. He grabs my hand, pulling me to him. “Holly and I are up in my dorm. Let’s go get some air,” he whispers, pulling me to him. He puts his arm around my waist and people start to back up, going back to whatever they were doing. Regardless, it feels like they’re too close. They’re closing in, pressing too close.

“Rose, we missed you,” someone calls out. I smile weakly, trying to hide my wheezing. Scorpius pulls me up the stairs.

“Easy there, killer,” someone laughs, letting out a wolf whistle. Scorpius just shakes his head, and we keep going. When we finally reach his dorm, I sink onto his bed. Holly is sitting on one of Samuel Gray’s bed, one of Scorpius’ roommates. None of the other boys are in here, all probably down there in the mob pit posing as a common room.

“How are you?” Holly asks, throwing her arms around me. “Last we saw you, your mum was taking you home and you were near catatonic,” she whispers.

“I’m fine. I just needed some time away from this all, some time to adjust. I feel a bit better now, but the… uh… common room was a bit too crowded for me,” I said, pulling back from her. “What have you been doing?”

“Ugh, just trying to find something to do. Lockdown is so _boring_ ,” Holly groans, throwing herself back down on Sam’s bed.

“Well, we could always play a game,” I say, raising an eyebrow.

“You don’t mean…” Scorpius trails off. Holly sits back up on the bed, suddenly interest.

“Oh yes,” I tell them. “I do.”

 

“So, explain this game again. I still don’t think I’m quite getting it,” Kristin says to me. We migrated into the girl’s room, after giving Scorpius permission to come up.

“It’s called Truth or Dare. Mum said it was a muggle game she played as a kid. My older cousins sort of altered the rules, made it more fun for wizards. Basically, we have to choose to answer a question, completely honestly and no lying, or complete some task. What my cousins did was enchanted these two jars,” I said patiently, holding them up for emphasis. Each was just a simple, glass jar filled with scraps of parchment. The one in my left hand was labelled “Truth,” while the one in my right was “Dare.”

“It was absolutely brilliant wandwork. Her sort-of-cousin Teddy Lupin created this spell in his sixth year. He made it so that the jars never run out of ideas for a game. Basically, it just keeps generating new questions and tasks, all while reusing the same parchment,” Scorpius adds excitedly. Scorp absolutely worships Teddy, thinks he’s a genius. I mean, he is excellent with spells and such, and Scorpius is too. I suppose he wants to learn from Teddy, as he does want to be a Curse-breaker. Or an auror. Or a healer. Scorp hasn’t really made up his mind yet.

“Right, anyway, what do we do with the jars?” Kristin asks.

“So, first you pick either answer a truth question or do a dare, the challenge or task. Then, you pick a paper out of the corresponding jar. After that, you just answer or do what the paper tells you. Then it’s someone else’s turn,” I finish.

“This is supposed to be _fun_?” Kristin snorts.

“Oh come on, I used to play this all the time! It was great,” Amy says emphatically.

“I did too, and even I have to admit it was pretty amusing. Yeah it could get a little awkward, but always in good fun,” Nora grins. Kristin rolls her eyes and sighs, but joins us in our circle on the floor.

“Alright, let’s get it started,” she says, allowing a small smile.

“I just wish we had more people,” Holly moans. “When we played it at yours over summer break, so many of your cousins were there. And some of their very, _very_ attractive male friends.”

“Am I not enough for you, Brooks?” Scorpius smirks.

“Oh please,” she laughs. “Like you could handle me.”

“Well, if we weren’t all confined to our dorms, we could invite some more people, but as it is, we’re stuck with just Ravenclaws. I’m open to inviting more people though,” I tell them. “What about Lorcan Scamander?”

“He’s so strange!” Fiona whispers. “Would he even know how to play? I don’t much fancy explaining it again.”

“Course he does, he’s played it loads of times with my family. Least we can do is ask him. If he says no, he says no. Anybody got any better ideas?”

“Well, what about that fifth year Tom Stephens? He’s pretty cute,” Jenny suggests. “And I’m pretty friendly with him; I’ve helped him study for exams in the past.”

“Go ahead and ask him. Anybody else?”

“Sam, my roommate?” Scorpius asks.

“Yeah, sure. That should be more than enough. I’ll go ask Lorcan, and Scorp, bring Holly with you so that she can give you boys permission to come back up.” It was no hard task convincing Lorcan to come play with us. He does enjoy playing whenever he comes over. By the time I get back, everyone else is settling onto the floor and Jenny is explaining the game to Tom. As a muggleborn, he understands most of it already.

“Alright, who goes first?” Kristin asks once everyone is settled in.

“I will,” Lorcan volunteers, always eager to get the ball rolling. He definitely does get some of his mum’s rather… er… eccentricities, but he’s a bit more level-headed than she is. Much more practical and hands-on. Demonstrating this, he reaches eagerly into the Dare jar. Unfolding the paper, he flushes a delicate pink. A tone which compliments his golden hair tremendously, I might add.

“Go on, read it aloud,” Holly nudges him with her elbow. Her eyes are twinkling. Clearly she read over his shoulder.

“It says, ‘moon the rest of the players,’” he says softly. He sits there for a moment, then clears his throat. “Alright, anyone with delicate sensibilities or uncontrollable urges, please shield your eyes,” he says before turning around. Holly squealed with laughter as Lorcan quickly slid his trousers down to his ankles, giving us a good eyeful before yanking them back up and sitting down.

“Wow, you’ve got some pretty red cheeks for someone with such a pasty arse,” Kristin cackled. Lorcan laughed good-naturedly before passing the buck onto someone else.

The game continued in this manner for quite some time and nearly everybody chose dares. Probably because it was far easier to complete a slightly absurd, potentially embarrassing act than answer ridiculously personal questions. It was much more entertaining, too. In just two hours, I watched Holly give Lorcan a lap dance, Nora imitate a gorilla (she went so far as to change her appearance to resemble an ape), Fiona turn Sam into a mummy using only toilet paper and duct tape, Amy make out with her poster for the Wimbourne Wasps, and Kristin give Scorpius a foot massage. That’s not even to mention all the awkward kisses and touches, spurred on by dares to “kiss the person to your left,” “lick the ear of the person opposite you,” or “bite the person on your right.”

After a while, there was a _CRACK_ and suddenly Pokey was there in our dorm room.

“Ah, Pokey! Is it lunch time already?” Holly grinned.

“Miss Brookes! Miss Weasley! You is having friends up here! Should Pokey come back later?”

“No, no please Pokey! We’re starving. What are you bringing today?” Kristin smiled.

“Roast beef sandwiches, Miss Jennings. And salad, crisps and treacle tart. Is Miss Weasley’s friends needing of anything else?” Pokey squeaks.

“A pitcher of water or pumpkin juice or something, if you could,” Sam asks. Pokey nods and disappears. Within another moment, she returned with their lunch. They continued playing while they ate, but stuck to Truth so that it would be easier to eat and play.

“Your turn, Rose,” Holly grins before taking a big bite of her sandwich. I reach into the jar and pull out a slip of paper. Opening it, I begin to read.

“Share one of your sexual fantasies with the group.” I read, feeling my cheeks heating up. A few of the other girls wolf whistled and cat called. “Er, well… I’ve never really given it that much thought.” Nora scoffs and rolls her eyes.

“Oh come on, Rose. Even good girls have impure thoughts occasionally. Doesn’t necessarily have to be some long, drawn out fantasy about shagging somebody,” she snorts. I consider it again.

“Well, when I was dating Harvey, I did think about how great of a kisser he was. And he would run his hands through my hair, and I would imagine him kissing me like that, running his hands through my hair.” Realizing everyone was snickering, I cleared my throat. “That’s all,” I finished, somewhat lamely.

“Riveting, Rosie,” Holly smirks.

“All right, miss sass, why don’t you take a turn?” Holly shrugged and pulled another slip of paper out the jar.

“What’s the meanest rumour you’ve ever spread about someone?” she says after swallowing her sandwich. “Well, I don’t spread all that many rumours. Nasty practice, that is. But, that being said, I have been known to… er… exaggerate a story here or there.” She grins cheekily. “One time in primary school, I told people that this girl Josie had been caught kissing this boy Brian McCreevey down by the playground. We were in third grade, and boys still had cooties then. This was devastating to her reputation.”

“That’s so mean! What did she do the you?”

“She put gum in my hair and my parents had to cut it, course, it did magically grow back. Not that we really knew anything about magic back then, so they were freaked.”

“Alright, your turn Scorpius,” Amy said, bringing us back. Scorpius pushed away his plate, having finished eaten, and reached into the Dare jar.

“Pick a partner of the opposite sex,” he read before opening the slip of paper. “Rose, you up for it?” I nodded, seeing as I’d finished my lunch. “Alright, now then, the dare is to play “Seven Minutes in Heaven” with your partner. What’s that mean?” I shrugged; Mum had never mentioned that game before. Amy, Holly and Fiona exchanged looks with each other, giggling.

“It means you have to snog Rose,” Fiona called out, bursting into a fit of laughter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys! How's your day going? Good, I hope? How's life treating you? Do you like the chapter? Any predictions for what's coming up? Reactions to Truth or Dare? Send me a review, let me know!


	17. Remembering

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And what if…” I take a deep breath, “what if I said that I did want to?” I asked him.  
> “I’d say you’re only doing it because you feel bad, and that it’s still compelling you into doing something. You feel under pressure, and that’s not right.”  
> “Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy,” I said sharply, pulling him down to sit next to me. “I, Rose Weasley, want you to kiss me.” He’s quite close to me, and I start leaning in. It’s as if a switch was flipped and then his mouth is crashing down on mine, his tongue in my mouth. He pulls me up so that we’re standing, no longer trying to balance on the small edge of the tub. Pushing me against the wall, we come up for air for a moment.

**Chapter 17: Rememberin** g

  
  


“Er… what?” Scorpius stammers. Holly is grinning so big, her cheeks might burst.

“Seven Minutes in Heaven is a muggle game, sort of like this one. You send two people into a cupboard and set a timer. They go in there and snog for, as one might predict, seven minutes. Then, they come out and another couple goes in. As a general rule, they pick names out of a hat to ensure random matchups,” Amy says, trying very hard not to laugh. Scorpius stands.

“Well, then… I guess we should go to… erm… the bathroom?” he said, looking around. The nearest cupboard was outside the dormitory, and the loo was the nearest place for privacy. He pulled me to my feet and led me into the loo, closing the door behind him. We heard plenty of snickers and cheers before we shut the door. I sat on the edge of the tub, shyly looking at my feet.

“Shall we get to it, then?” I whispered.

“We don’t have to do this, Rosie. If you want, we can just… talk. You and I, we’re friends, right? You don’t… you don’t have to do this,” he said softly.

“But then you have to suffer the consequences. That’s not fair,” I said. When Teddy adapted this game, he added a new layer. If someone failed to answer a question honestly, or chose not to do a dare, they had to do something really, _really_ terrible. I’ve only ever seen it happen once, and it was not a fun experience.

“I’d rather do that than force you into doing something you’re not comfortable with, or something you feel pressured to do,” he insists. “I would never want you to do anything you don’t want to do.”

“And what if…” I take a deep breath, “what if I said that I did want to?” I asked him.

“I’d say you’re only doing it because you feel bad, and that it’s still compelling you into doing something. You feel under pressure, and that’s not right.”

“Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy,” I said sharply, pulling him down to sit next to me. “I, Rose Weasley, want you to kiss me.” He’s quite close to me, and I start leaning in. It’s as if a switch was flipped and then his mouth is crashing down on mine, his tongue in my mouth. He pulls me up so that we’re standing, no longer trying to balance on the small edge of the tub. Pushing me against the wall, we come up for air for a moment.

He looks me in the eyes and then starts kissing me again, but not on the mouth. He kisses my cheek, then my nose. Then he leaves a trail of kisses on my collarbone. All of a sudden, he stops, and I’m left panting, needing more. He starts kissing me again, harder. He returns to my neck, kissing this one spot just underneath my shoulder, sucking and I knew I would have a mark when I got out, but at that moment, I didn’t care. I, Rose Weasley, queen of overthinking and known for her brain that doesn’t stop, was gifted with a few moments of total, utter silence. Every thought, every thing bearing some resemblance to a coherent thought disappeared. And it was glorious

Clearly we lost track of time because when the door came crashing open, we nearly jumped out of our skin.

“Sorry, it’s been a little over seven minutes. We forgot to get you. Not that it looks like you minded,” Amy snickers. By that point, Scorp and I were laying on the floor, me on top of him, so I picked myself up and straightened my shirt, face redder than Gryffindor. I breezed past her and sat down, neatly folding my legs, back next to Holly. She leans and whispers in my ear.

“Hey, Ro, you might want to try covering up that hickey before we go anywhere else,” she snickers. I quickly pull at my shirt, yanking it up to cover it. I knew a hickey would show up, I just didn’t know it would happen that quickly.

“It’s your turn, Rose,” Kristin smirks. I bite my lip and take a slip of parchment from the Truth jar.

“Of the people in this room, who would you most enjoy snogging?” I read. Everyone laughs, and I manage an awkward chuckle.

“Well, Kristin, I don’t think you’d be particularly pleasant or gentle. Fiona, no offense but I don’t think I’d enjoy your kisses either. Hmmm, Lorcan, I think you’re a bit too young. Nora, I’d always worry you’d change your appearance mid-snog. Tom, nothing against you but I don’t know you well enough to want to snog you. Now, Amy-”

“Oh, Rose give this up! Please, just say it,” Jenny shouts.

“Alright, Scorp, I _did_ enjoy our snog, so I’m gonna say you,” I sighed. He shoots a guilty grin at me.

“Jenny, it’s your turn!” We started up our game again and, throughout the entire thing, Scorp and I keep shooting each other looks. I’m not entirely sure what I should do about this. After another few hours, we’ve finally tired of embarrassing ourselves.

“I’m off to try and find a book in the common room that I haven’t already read,” Lorcan says, stretching. Everyone else mutters something about where they’re going and soon it’s just me, Holly and Scorp.

“Well, I for one think we should talk about this,” Holly says boldly.

“ _We_?” Scorpius asked, quirking his lips up into a smile.

“Hey, we are all friends. This does affect all of us! I’d rather not be tiptoeing around you two for the rest of our lives, wondering how that unresolved sexual tension is doing,” Holly explodes, standing up. She paces in front of us, and I turn to look at him.

“I s’pose it is a good idea,” I tell him. He shrugs.

“Yeah, I guess,” he says.

“So, where do we start?” I ask Holly.

“Well, did you enjoy it? The snog, I mean?” Holly asks us.

“Yes,” Scorpius says.

“Immensely,” I say at the same time.

“Well now we have to figure out what to do. Do you two have feelings for each other? Do you want to pursue a real relationship? Or are we just going to chalk this up to more of a lustful experience?”

“Holly, you couldn’t give us a moment of privacy, could you?” Scorpius whispered. “Rose and I really need to talk.” She groans.

“Scorpius, I have feelings for you. I have for a while, and I just think I’ve been ignoring them for fear it would ruin our friendship. I also, naturally, feared that you didn’t feel the same,” I said very quickly, screwing my eyes shut, as if it gave me courage. My outburst was met with silence. I opened one eye. Holly was standing still, looking at me, probably having stopped walking mid-pace. She was grinning at me, not saying anything. Scorpius meanwhile, was sitting there just gaping, mouth open.

“Do you know the first moment I knew I had feelings for you?” he said suddenly. I shook my head. “It was in our first year. Remember when we were in the hospital wing together? You were only in there for two nights, but I was in there for nearly a fortnight. You came in every day after classes. You brought me my work, and notes, and you came and sat with me. Every afternoon, for hours, you came and sat with me, just so I wouldn’t be alone. You brought me snacks, you brought me books, and we talked. You even let me help pick out your kitten, and pick out his name. You were so nice to me, even after all you must have heard about my family. That’s when I first felt something,” he says softly. I smiled, remembering that. If I had to pinpoint one moment for me, it was probably just before that.

When we were first years, an older student attacked Scorpius. This boy, who had been a seventh year prefect, held a grudge against the Malfoys, seeing as quite a few of his family members had been tortured or killed by Death Eaters. Despite Scorpius’ protests that he was not his father, nor was he his grandfather, the boy couldn’t see past his family name. He ambushed Scorpius one evening when he had gotten lost on his way back from the library. The professors and aurors thought that he was probably stalking Scorpius, and this was just a good opportunity.

He tortured Scorpius. He beat him with his fists, kicked him, and smashed him up against a wall. Then he pounded him with spells. He hit Scorpius with stinging hexes, biting jinxes, anything that would cause pain. He cut him with sharp objects. He did anything and everything he could to make Scorpius pay for the mistakes of his family.

I happened upon the scene when I was looking around, trying to acquaint myself with the castle. Immediately, I yelled for help, hoping to attract the attention of a nearby portrait. Then I ran to stop the attacker. He was torturing Scorpius, using the _cruciatus_ curse on him. I didn’t think, I just ran. I threw myself in front of Scorpius. It was agony, but after what felt like ages, a professor came and saved us.

There are some things you can’t share without ending up liking each other, and surviving the torture of a mutinous seventh year is one of them.

Without thinking about it, I lean in and kiss Scorpius, just softly. When I pull back, Holly looks like she’s about to cry.

“What’s wrong, Hols?” I ask her, smiling.

“You two are so bloody adorable,” she says, tears slipping down her cheeks. “So, are you two gonna go out now? Are you official? Ooh, can I tell Dom?”

“There’s just one problem with that,” Scorpius says. I raise one eyebrow at him. “Your stalker. I reckon he’s probably the jealous type. I wouldn’t want him to get angry with you and hurt you.”

“Yeah, but I went out with Harvey and nothing happened,” I point out.

“He’s more confident now. He’s been contacting you. And,” Scorpius says, “he started contacting you after you broke up with Harvey. Maybe he figured now was a good time, seeing as you were old enough and available, in his mind.”

“Gee, Scorp, it almost sounds like you don’t want to date me,” I teased him.

“Oh, believe me, I do,” he growled. “But I will not risk your safety for my own pleasure.”

“But what’s the probability that he’ll find out?” I ask, nearly whining.

“Um, Rose, you do know why we’re in lockdown, right?” Holly reminds me. I heave a big sigh. “Why don’t you do what you always do? Make a pro-con list. Let’s all do it right now,” she suggests.

“Pro: I don’t have to wait,” I said promptly.

“Con: it’d anger your stalker and he might act out and hurt you or someone you care about in retaliation,” Scorpius reminds me. I pout at him.

“Pro: I can snog you without fear of awkwardness in our friendship,” I say, smiling at him.

“Con: there’s someone at this school who’d not hesitate to throw you under the proverbial bus with your stalker,” Scorpius responds.

“Con: we don’t even know who this person is,” Holly adds.

“Pro: _you_ can snog _me_ ,” I add. “Pro: secret relationships are sexy,” I purr at him, tracing his collarbone with my fingers.

“Rose Weasley, you stop that this instant,” Holly shouts. Scorpius stands up, pulling me with him. “This is serious! Check your hormones at the door, please! This is your safety we’re talking about,” she pleads with me. “The one time we need you think absolutely rationally and logically, and you choose to throw caution to the wind,” she mutters. I look up at Scorpius and he’s looking back down at me, pleading with his eyes. His damn puppy-dog eyes always get me.

“Alright, alright. I’ve waited six years to admit this. I suppose a little while longer won’t hurt,” I relent, sighing. “But now what are we supposed to do? Pretend this didn’t happen? Pretend we’re not mad for each other?” I flush at my flippancy, praying that no one is listening at the door.

“Do what we’ve been doing, I suppose. Be friends,” Scorpius shrugs.

“Easier said than done,” I tell him wryly, smirking. “How can I go from this,” I gesture to us standing a respectful distance apart, not touching. “when I’d _this_?” I ask, drawing him closer to me. I pull his chin down to my mouth, kissing him like I’ve never done before. Even in the bathroom with him, I’d never been the initiator. Scorpius pulls back, but it looks like it pains him to do so.

“Rose, you’re killing me,” he groans. “But I have to know that I’m not endangering you before we can do this.” I nod.

“I know. And besides, everyone says they’ll catch this guy soon. They say they’re closing in on his inside helper. How much longer can it last?” I flop back down onto my bed and Scorpius sits on the floor.

“Don’t worry Rosie,” Holly giggles, bouncing down next to me on my bed. She put her arms around me. “If you ever get lonely, you could always snog _me_. I bet your stalker won’t feel as threatened by me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, now we know the origin of their friendship! Remember this moment, it'll come up later, and it'll be really important! I have an accompanying one-shot that describes the attack on Scorp. Would you guys want to read it?


	18. Full Moon

**Chapter 18: Full Moon**

**  
  
**

The next two days passed agonizingly slowly.

Cabin fever ran abound in Ravenclaw tower, made worse by the lack of reading material. Despite all the bookshelves in the common room, people ran out of new things to read pretty quickly. Fights were common and people were doing anything to distract themselves from the tedium. Some kids played chess nonstop, others played exploding snap. Some even started a duelling club right there in the common room.

“I need to _run_ ,” Scorpius whispers. “I haven’t gotten to run in ages, and I’m going crazy.”

“How much longer can this go on?” I groaned.

And we were not the only ones complaining, or suffering, or bored. Many students had even taken to trying sleeping potions, just to make the time fly faster. Most of the house elves refused to supply students with it, seeing as it wasn’t something they could supply from the kitchens. However, there were a few students who seemed to be brewing it in their rooms. I knew I should probably investigate it, or report it or something, but honestly, who was I to judge? I still have a cauldron of calming concoction hidden in my wardrobe.

It was on this third night that I was shaken awake in the middle of the night.

“What- whosat?” I groaned, trying to wipe the sleep from my eyes. “Whassappening?” I shook my head and rubbed my eyes.

“Rose, I need your help,” I heard a small voice whisper. I sat up in bed, blinking slowly. The window was uncovered and the light of the moon illuminated the speaker.

“Amber? What are you doing here?” I ask her. Amber, at least I hope this girl is Amber, is a first year. She’s a small, mousy girl with curly brown hair and big, startlingly green eyes. She looks down at me, biting her lip, her eyes shifting around, looking at everyone worriedly. In the bed next to me, Holly groans.

“Rose, what’s going on?” she mumbles, lifting her head up.

“Nothing, Hols. Go back to bed,” I whisper. She nods and puts her head back down on the pillow. Within moments she’s snoring again, without ever having opened her eyes.

“Let’s go down to the common room and talk,” I whisper. Amber nods, and follows me down to the common room. Once we’re sitting comfortably in the arm chairs, I look expectantly at her. She shifts under my gaze, pulling at the threads of her striped pyjamas. “What’s wrong Amber?” I ask her again.

“I… um, I’m sorry to wake you up. I just… I need your help and this is an emergency and at the start of term feast, you said we could always come to you with our problems and this is a big problem,” she says quickly.

“Alright, can you slow down and take a breath?” I ask her. She nods and breathes in deeply through her nose. “Now, you have to start from the beginning.”

“I can’t,” she moaned. “I mean, well, I can. But I have to tell the Headmaster, too and it’ll be easier if I just say it once rather than twice.” She bites her lip, looking like she’s about to cry.

“Okay, I’ll… er… I’ll send a message to the Headmaster, but I need to give him a few details. Amber, what’s your last name?”

“Wells,” she says. “Make sure you tell him it’s an emergency, a matter of life and death,” she adds, biting her lip again.

 _“Expecto Patronum,”_ I whisper. A jet of white light explodes from my wand and a hare hops around happily before coming to a rest in front of me. “To Headmaster Filius Flitwick. Hi Professor, it’s Rose Weasley. I’m here in my common room with Amber Wells, a first year Ravenclaw. She says it’s urgent that she speaks with you right now. She says it’s an emergency, a matter of life and death. If you could maybe send an auror to come escort us to your office? It’s very important.” I send the hare hopping off and it goes right through the wall, presumably off to find Professor Flitwick. “Now, we just have to wait.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” she says quietly. We sit in silence for a moment.

“So, how are you liking Hogwarts so far, Amber?”

“At the moment?” she says, smiling wryly. “It’s a tad boring.”

“No, but really? Are you making any friends? How are your classes?” She’s spared having to answer by an owl patronus coming through the wall.

“Rose, aurors are on the way. Please wait for them. See you momentarily,” Professor Flitwick’s voice says. Amber gives me a wan smile. We sit in silence, but only for a minute. There’s a knock on the common room door.

 _“Where do Vanished objects go?”_ the knocker asks.

“Rose, Amber, it’s Auror Jensen. I’m here to take you to see the Headmaster,” someone shouts. I motion for Amber to stand. Realizing that I’m still only in my pyjamas, I summon my slippers and a robe. Pulling them on, I open the door and usher Amber out. We walk to Flitwick’s office in silence, the only sound being the scraping of our slippers on the stone floor.

“Phoenix,” Auror Jensen says softly, as soon as we’ve reached the stone gargoyle. We’re swept up onto the moving staircase and into his office before we could even say _“wingardium leviosa.”_

“I take emergencies of life and death vastly important, my dears. Now, let’s cut to the chase. Amber, my dear, what’s wrong?”

“I have a confession to make,” she says softly. “I think you’re looking for me. I’m a… I’m a werewolf.”

“It’s _you_?! You’re one of the Blood Cubs?” I ask, swivelling my head to look at Amber. She’s balled her fists and is staring fixedly at Flitwick’s desk.

“Please, I have to get through this,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “You have to understand; I was just a kid when they took me. I don’t even remember my family because when they took me, they also took my memories. He took me so he could groom me. He trained me to be a Ravenclaw. He brought me with him when he went to stalk you. He wanted an inside man this year, someone who could help him keep tabs on you, but I didn’t want to. I never wanted any of this,” she sobbed.

“He? Do you mean…” I trailed off, not knowing exactly what to call him.

“He made me call him Alpha, like he was a god or something. I’m sorry Rose, but I did send a few letters, telling him how you were doing. I didn’t, I never helped him get on the grounds, but I know he did it once. I just, I needed to come clean. I couldn’t keep doing this any more. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I never wanted to hurt you,” she pleads. I can’t stay mad at a sobbing, hysterical eleven year old girl.

“Breathe, Amber. Just take a deep breath,” I tell her softly, rubbing her back.

“You shouldn’t- be so nice- to me,” she hiccups. “I’ve been spying on you- _hic_ \- helping your stalker. I don’t deserve- _hic_ \- your kindness.”

“We’ll sort that out later then. For now, you need to breathe. Just speak, stop thinking, or else you’ll think yourself into a panic attack,” I tell her.

“Miss Wells, why don’t you take a calming concoction. Might make this a little easier,” Professor Flitwick suggests, holding out a goblet. Her hands are shaking when she grabs the goblet. After a few sips, I feel her stop trembling. She takes a deep breath.

“Now, may I ask a few questions?” Professor Flitwick asks. She nods calmly. “When did the Blood Cubs kidnap you?”

“All I know is that I was about two or three. I don’t remember any of it. All I remember is when I was six, and they wiped my memories, wanted me to start fresh. Started… grooming me,” she whimpers.

“Do you know where they kept you, where the compound was?”

“No, they would always apparate with us, directly from the compound to a random semi-public place. Very few young or new wolves got to leave. Only those who were old enough or who showed complete devotion to the cause were permitted to leave. I was special because he wanted me to get familiar with Rose, he wanted me to learn her habits. He wanted me to stalk her too.”

“You said you ‘couldn’t live this lie anymore,’ that you ‘couldn’t do it anymore.’ Why? Why come clean now?”

“I’ve been watching Rose, seeing what a good person she is. I never wanted her to be turned, to see her forced into submission. It was too difficult to pretend I was okay with it, especially since we were all stuck together in the common room. Plus, the full moon is coming.”

“Three more nights,” Flitwick nodded. “And we’ve cut off your supply of Wolfsbane, and your access to a safe place to hide, haven’t we?” She nods.

“So, what’s going to happen to me now?” she asks, a trace of fear in her voice.

“You won’t be expelled, nor will you be given any disciplinary action, seeing as this didn’t technically break any school rules. However, you do need to think about the danger you put my students in. You knew he was getting in, despite our attempts to keep him out.”

“You’re disappointed in me,” she says quietly, looking down at her slippers.

“A child makes mistakes, Filius, particularly when she is influenced so heavily by radical groups such as Greyback’s pack,” Dumbledore says quietly. Flitwick nods along, more to himself.

“Make her repay her debt to society,” one of the portraits calls out.

“She can work with the aurors to help us. You can be a spy,” I tell her, shaking her shoulder lightly.

“That’s a good idea,” Flitwick replies. “I’ll pass the idea along to the aurors when they come up to finish this discussion.” As he speaks, Amber starts yawning.

“Professor, I don’t think now is a really good time to discuss this. Amber was up all night and probably hasn’t been sleeping well recently, guilty conscience and all. Could we maybe continue this discussion later, maybe after the lockdown is lifted?” Flitwick looks at Amber, who’s yawning again.

“Ah, yes, I suppose that could be worked out. However, we will need to work some details out regarding your situation, Miss Wells. Madame Pomfrey needs to be made aware, as well as Professor Slughorn, so he can make the potion. But, it can all wait until the morning,” he says, noticing the frequency of her yawns increasing.

When Auror Jensen comes to bring us back to the common room, Amber is leaning on me in order to walk.

“I’m sorry Rose. I should have told you,” she said blearily.

“I know,” I tell her, not really sure what else I can say.

“We should talk, work this out. I don’t want you to… to hate me,” she says through a yawn. It’s none too soon when we finally get up to the Ravenclaw common room. All I can do is lay her down on the couch, pulling a blanket over her. “We have to talk,” she says softly, yawning again. Her eyes are closed now.

“In the morning, love,” I whisper. The sun is just starting to peek over the mountains when I’m finally able to slink back into bed.

“ _She’s_ the werewolf?” Holly hisses later that afternoon. We’re sitting on my bed, me and her, and Scorpius is on the floor, mouth ajar. I catch his eye momentarily, and there’s a moment of awkwardness.

It’s like we opened a floodgate. For all these years, we’ve been friends, best friends in fact. There were always a few moments with that exhilarating sexual tension, like when I twisted my ankle in the mud one summer while it was raining. Scorpius carried me home in the rain bridal style, and there was a moment when I wondered about us. But, we were always able to tone it down, to push everything back for the sake of our friendship. And then I went and bloody ruined it with one stupid moment of hormonal failure, and now I can’t close the damn gates.

“Well, don’t shout it, now!” I hissed at her.

“Why not? Didn’t you put it the _muffliato_ charms up?”

“Okay, whatever, anyways, yes she is. She came to me in the middle of the night, said she had to talk to Flitwick.”

“Wait, Amber Wells, is she that really tiny, mousy sort of girl?” Scorpius asks.

“Yeah, keep up Scorp. So, she just woke you up and was like ‘hey Rose, I’m a wolf.’?”

“No, she didn’t tell me anything until we got up into his office. Then, she got hysterical, kept crying and saying I should hate her and she’s a terrible person and whatever,” I said softly. “Flitwick gave her a calming potion and she had a really weird reaction t it. She got even more wonky than I do when I take stuff like that.”

“Well, she must be an intense lightweight, even more so than you,” Holly jokes.

“You’d think that her werewolf abilities, or powers, or whatever you call them, would make her more powerful, maybe less susceptible,” Scorp laughs.

“I told her I’d talk to her in the morning,” I groaned, just remembering. “She’s probably panicking down there in the common room, trying to find me. Plus, she was sort of in a state when I left her.” I stand up just as I hear Professor Flitwick’s voice, echoing throughout the castle.

_“Attention all students: the lockdown will be lifted tonight. No student is to leave their dormitory until 6:00pm tonight. There will be a feast where the situation will be explained. It is mandatory that all students are present at the feast. Thank you.”_

“It’s over?” I heard students shouting.

“It’s over!”

“We’re free!”

“We can go to the library!” someone shouted gleefully.

“Typical Ravenclaws,” Holly snorted.

“We certainly know how to party,” I said, trying to keep a straight face. I catch Scorpius’ eyes, then Holly’s. Before we know it, we’re rolling around on the floor laughing hysterically.


	19. Lockdown Lifted

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There was an excitement running through Ravenclaw Tower after Flitwick’s announcement. Everyone was eager to get out into the rest of the castle, but unable to wait for the feast tonight. It was still a few hours away, and some people were getting desperate.  
> “Only five hours and twenty three minutes to go,” a second year squeaked. She and her friends laughed, bouncing around. She was one of the kids who had been in that duelling club. Anything to keep moving, to keep herself distracted.  
> “Shut up, you’re making it worse,” an older student groaned.  
> “Oi, leave her alone Shannon. She’s just excited, and you know you’re excited too,” one of her friends says, swatting her leg.  
> “Yeah well, everyone’s going crazy! We can’t be counting down the minutes!” the first girl responds.  
> “Shut up, Shannon. Let’s just go,” her friend replies, pulling her away. After they’re gone, I see the second year lean into her friends.  
> “Five hours and twenty one minutes,” she whispers excitedly.

**Chapter 19: Lockdown Lifted**

**  
  
**

There was an excitement running through Ravenclaw Tower after Flitwick’s announcement. Everyone was eager to get out into the rest of the castle, but unable to wait for the feast tonight. It was still a few hours away, and some people were getting desperate.

“Only five hours and twenty three minutes to go,” a second year squeaked. She and her friends laughed, bouncing around. She was one of the kids who had been in that duelling club. Anything to keep moving, to keep herself distracted.

“Shut up, you’re making it worse,” an older student groaned.

“Oi, leave her alone Shannon. She’s just excited, and you know you’re excited too,” one of her friends says, swatting her leg.

“Yeah well, everyone’s going crazy! We can’t be counting down the minutes!” the first girl responds.

“Shut up, Shannon. Let’s just go,” her friend replies, pulling her away. After they’re gone, I see the second year lean into her friends.

“Five hours and twenty one minutes,” she whispers excitedly.

“Were we ever that annoying?” Holly hisses to me, leaning over my shoulder. We’re standing on the stairs to the girl’s dormitories, watching the madness in the common room.

“I don’t think so,” I told her.

“I hope not,” Scorpius groans.

“Well, maybe we should go find Amber, preferably before she has a panic attack,” I suggest.

“Oh, alright,” Holly sighed. “She’s probably in the first year dormitory.” She starts to head back up the stairs, but I yank on her arm.

“I should talk to her alone, keep her calm. She might freak if she finds out I told you. It was hard enough for her to tell me, let alone two strangers,” I whisper.

“Maybe we should go down to the common room. We can talk to her later, after you’ve explained and calmed her down and everything,” Scorpius suggests. He nods at me before pulling Holly down into the common room.

“Amber?” I call out, knocking on the door at the first landing.

“Rose, please, don’t come in,” she yells back, her voice breaking. “I can’t talk to you,” she whimpers.

“I’m coming in,” I warned her, pushing the door open. There’s a loud noise and I see something move. “Amber, we need to talk. Properly, not when you’re loaded off calming concoction,” I add.

“No, you should hate me, and you’re right to!” I hear her muffled voice shout. My head whips around as I try to figure out where it came from.

“I don’t hate you Amber. You can’t help being… what you are. It’s your choices that define you, and you chose to do the right thing. You chose to protect people,” I call out.

“I’ve been spying on you. I’ve been working for him,” she responds. I start to close in.

“You chose to come clean, to help out. It makes a difference,” I tell her.

“I’ve done terrible things,” she calls out. “I’m a terrible creature.” I yank open the lid to a trunk, and find her curled in a ball, sniffling.

“Oh, Amber, come out of there,” I say softly. She wraps her arms tighter around herself.

“I can’t,” she whimpers. “I broke the rules. I told you about me. I told the Headmaster about me. I broke the rules. He’s gonna know. He always knows. Breaking rules means punishment. I don’t want the punishment. I can’t do another one. Not again,” she mumbles, more to herself than to me. Her entire body starts trembling.

“No, Amber, he’s not here. He doesn’t know,” I tell her, reaching into the trunk.

“No!” she shouts, flinching away from me. “He always knows. No matter what, he always knows. He just, he looks in my eyes and he always knows,” she insists, repeating again and again.

“He’s probably a legilimens,” I whisper to her. She looks up at me and stops mumbling. “It means he can see into your mind.”

“I knew it! See, he-”

“Always know, yeah I know. But, see, the trick about legilimency is that the person has to be looking in your eyes. It can’t be done over large distances or when you don’t look in their eyes. He won’t know unless you look in his eyes.”

“But, the letters and the lockdown and everything! The lockdown was so public; he’s bound to know about it!”

“Okay, listen Amber. We can talk more about this when you come out of there,” I tell her gently. She wraps her arms around her body again.

“No, I can’t do it. It’s safe in here. He can’t see me in here. I can’t come out,” she mumbles.

“Oh, God, I wish Scorpius was here,” I muttered. To Amber, I say, “Listen, you have to get out. You can’t stay in there forever.” There’s a banging on the door.

“Rose? You all right in there?” Scorpius calls in.

“Amber, he’s a friend. He just wants to help. Can he come in?” I ask her.

“No, it’s a trick!” she shrieks. “He knows, he _always_ knows! He’s come for me!”

“Rose, I’m coming in,” he shouts and the door opens. “Why are you crouching next to that trunk?”

“Oh, Scorp, you’ve frightened her,” I groaned. “Look, just help me get her out of here. She’s gonna hurt herself in there.” His eyes widened when he saw Amber curled up so tight in the trunk, but he didn’t say anything. She kicks and strikes out when he lifts her out, but he just puts her out on the bed. She backs up against the wall, staring wide-eyed at us.

“No more punishment, please,” she whimpers. “I don’t want it.” Her eyes are closed and she’s shaking again. I lunge forward, onto the bed. I wrap my arms around her as she thrashes, whimpering.

“No, there’s no punishment,” I whispered. “But you have to breathe.”

“I can’t,” she groans through gritted teeth.

“Rose, breathe with her,” Scorp whispers.

“Do you hear that, Amber? When I breathe, you breathe. Understand?” I tell her. I take a deep breath in and I feel her lungs struggle to inflate themselves. When I let out a long, slow huff of breath, she coughs and sputters, but it’s a start. After a few minutes, or it could have been hours for all I knew, she starts really breathing again, and I feel her stop trembling beneath me.

“Okay, okay that’s better,” I tell her. Scorpius lets out a breath. “So, Amber, this is my friend Scorpius.”

“Hi, and uh, thanks,” she says awkwardly.

“Any time. So, if things are settled her, I’ll go back down to the common rooms,” he says, standing.

“Yeah, we’ll talk later then,” I tell him. He nods and walks out. “So, Amber, let’s talk. Talk about why you think I should hate you.”

“I’m a creature of evil,” she responds promptly. “A werewolf, a demon. I can hurt people if I want. Everything I am is bad. I’ve been spying on you, reporting back to the pack. It’s my fault he knows so much about you. I helped him spy on you years ago, when I was just a kid. I’ve lied. Everything that has happened to you is my fault. I deserve my punishment.”

“No, you have a medical condition. Lycanthropy does not make you evil. It wasn’t your choice!”

“But it was my choice to spy on you, which I did.”

“You were forced, coerced. You said it yourself: you were just a kid! And, no offense dear, but not everything leads back to you! Not everything is your fault,” I told her, laughing gently. She still won’t look me in the eye.

“I can hurt people,” she whispers.

“But you haven’t,” I remind her. “You haven’t hurt anyone. Listen, I know I can’t change your mind so quickly about everything you’ve set your mind to, everything you’ve been taught. But, I do want to help you.”

“I just… You’ve been so kind, Rose, but I need some time on my own. I need to think about… everything,” she says quietly.

“Alright, but not in your trunk,” I tell her. She laughs weakly, but I grab her chin, force her to look up, force her to catch my eye. “I mean it. I’ll be checking on you in a little bit, and I don’t want you locking yourself away.”

“It’s safer in there,” she whispers.

“Maybe, but you can’t live your life in there. Just… think about it,” I tell her, letting go of her hand. I turn on my heel and walk out.

“That was a bust,” I groaned as I sank into the couch. “She shut down completely,” I told Holly and Scorp.

“Yeah, well, seeing as she was hiding in her trunk, panicking, I can say that was predictable,” Holly says, trying to keep a straight face.

“It’s not funny, Hols! You should have seen her. She was petrified. It was like she was having a fit or something,” I told her. She sobers up, looking down at the ground.

“It was freaky, Hols. She was absolutely mad, kicking, fighting, screaming,” Scorpius adds.

“Yeah, Scorp, how did you know to come in? I mean, I needed your help, but how did you know?” I ask him, leaning in. He just shrugs.

“Dunno, ‘spose I just had an instinct. It was this feeling, like you needed help. When I got up the stairs, it got so strong, I just had to run in. I dunno, it sounds stupid when I say it out loud,” he mutters.

“Wait, how did you even get up the stairs? Why didn’t they turn into a slide? The charm?” Holly asks.

“I was in trouble, needed his help. Maybe that counts as permission or something?” I asked, shrugging. “Anyways, Amber has shut down. She won’t talk to me, she just keeps saying he’ll know. And that he’ll punish her, and that she’s evil. I know I can’t unravel all that conditioning he’s put her through in one conversation, but I have to wonder, ya know?”

“Wonder what?” Lorcan asks, settling in next to us on the couch.

“Just wondering why we can’t go out now, you know?” I smiled at him gently.

“I bet it was a rogue Crumple-Horned Snorkack. Mum says they can be dangerous when agitated, and that they hate being contained. Maybe it got stuck in the school and they needed to contain everyone while they hunted it down,” he suggests, grinning widely.

“Yeah Lorcan, maybe,” Holly grins, snickering. He settled in and starts going on and on about the Crumple-Horned Snorkack. After about an hour of his informational presentation all about the history, life, diet, attitude, and habitat of the Crumple-Horned Snorkack, it’s impossible to keep listening.

“Listen, Lorcan, I hate to interrupt you, but we really have to get going. We were going to finish our homework up in Scorp’s room,” I told him, standing.

“Oh, well, I guess I’ll let you get to it then, but I thought you’d be better than that, Rose! We’ve had days with nothing to do. How did you ignore your homework?”

“Yeah, yeah Lorc, we’ll do better next time, yeah? Gotta go!” Holly shouted, running up the stairs towards the boy’s dormitory.

“He’s a sweet kid, but honestly, he just doesn’t know when to stop!” Holly groans, throwing herself on the bed. “Put _muffliato_ up and everything. We don’t want another Lorcan experience.”

“Hey, he’s well-meaning, just a bit…” I trailed off. There really is no perfect word to describe Lorcan Scamander.

“Mad?” Holly asks, laughing.

“Oh come on now, let’s just leave it. Anyways, what were you really wondering about, Rose? Surely it wasn’t the Crumple-Horned Snorkack,” Scorpius chuckles.

“No, no I was just wondering about… about what Amber meant. About the punishment. I was wondering what he had to do... you know… to get her like that? What was so bad that she would hide in a trunk to avoid?”

“I don’t know, Rose. had to have been bad,” Scorp said softly.

“Is that gonna happen to me? Is that what he’ll do to me? Am I gonna end up like that?” I whisper, and I can feel my body start to shake. “I have to know what happened to her. I have to know what I’m getting myself into.”

“I know, Rose, but he isn’t getting anywhere near you. And he won’t get anywhere near Amber again. I won’t let him,” Scorpius vows.

“You’re not Superman, Scorp. You can’t make those kinds of promises. Just, I think I just need some time by myself, to think, you know?” And I turned and walked out, just like I walked out on Amber earlier, when she made the same request I was making.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Always looking for reviews, feedback, anything!


	20. The Feast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Oh, God, it feels so good to be out in the Great Hall. I’ve missed seeing the sky,” I overhear someone sigh.
> 
> “Actually,” I point out to the poor Hufflepuff third year, “it’s not actually the sky you’re seeing. The ceiling was bewitched to reflect the day’s sky. You should read about it in Hogwarts: A History. Great book.” The child looks at me as if I’ve got seven heads. He nods stiffly then runs off to his table. I shrug then swing myself onto the bench at the Ravenclaw table, next to Holly and across from Amy.

**Chapter 20: The Feast**

**  
  
**

“Oh, God, it feels so good to be out in the Great Hall. I’ve missed seeing the sky,” I overhear someone sigh.

“Actually,” I point out to the poor Hufflepuff third year, “it’s not actually the sky you’re seeing. The ceiling was bewitched to reflect the day’s sky. You should read about it in _Hogwarts: A History_. Great book.” The child looks at me as if I’ve got seven heads. He nods stiffly then runs off to his table. I shrug then swing myself onto the bench at the Ravenclaw table, next to Holly and across from Amy.

“I can’t wait until this feast is over. I need to go somewhere other than the common room!” Scorpius stage-whispers.

“Now that’s a first,” Amy chuckles. Scorp gives her a strange look. “Scorp saying he wants a feast to be over, I mean!” She elbows him lightly, smiling. He playfully punches her shoulder and I turn over to look at the staff table. All of the teachers have arrived and are chatting amongst themselves.

“You should try making it a bit less obvious,” Holly whispers in my ear. I glare at her, but she doesn’t get the telepathic message I was sending her. Clearly, I need to work on my Legilimency. Wait, does Legilimency even work like that? A matter to research in the library, once the feast is over. “That you’re jealous of Amy, I mean. And that you fancy Scorpius. Although, the first is rather indicative of the second.”

“Hey, Holly, do you know if Legilimency works anything like telepathy?” I ask her. She punches me in the stomach, none too lightly, and glares at me.

“Oh, Rose, where do you even come up with this stuff? I mean, I’m pretty sure it doesn’t, but maybe you could work on it. Knowing you, you’d probably patent a new spell like that,” she laughs. Under her breath, she whispers to me, “Nice try, changing the subject, but we’ll discuss it later.” As soon as the last of the students are seated, Professor Flitwick stands up.

“Welcome back, students. I am sure you are all glad to be out of your common rooms,” Flitwick squealed. There’s an uproar of whoops and cheers and laughter from the students. “And I am certain you are all curious as to the reasons behind your lockdown. I can assure you all, it was a matter of your safety. Professor Jones, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, had a unit planned for the N.E.W.T. students on some of the more dangerous creatures, the ones that you don’t learn about in third year,” he says, winking at us conspiratorially.

“One of these creatures was a Tebo which, as some of you may know, is a rather dangerous creature. As part of the unit, he had a few imported from the Congo so that students could learn first hand how to defeat such a creature. However, due to an accident, the container holding the unit was compromised and the herd got out one night. Not only are the Tebos aggressive and dangerous, but they also have the ability to turn invisible. The only way to properly assure your safety was to keep you all contained. We had a special group from the Ministry come help us find the beasts. As another precautionary measure, we have removed the Tebos from the premises. If there are any more questions, you may ask the staff. Now, you may enjoy the feast!” At the word ‘feast’ the plates magically fill themselves with food, and my conversation with Holly is forgotten as we reach for every plate within a meter.

“That was so much better than the meals we’ve been eating in the dorms,” I groaned after the dessert plates had vanished. As everyone started to migrate towards the exit, I spotted Amber on the edge of a group of Ravenclaw first years. I grabbed her arm and pulled her over.

“Follow me, please,” I ask her quietly. She just nods. Motioning for Scorpius and Holly to follow, I start towards the seventh floor corridor. Amber doesn’t say anything, but her eyes widen when she sees Scorpius and Holly with us. Finding the blank stretch of wall, I walk past it thrice thinking, _I need somewhere we can talk, somewhere no one can come in. I need somewhere we can talk, somewhere no one else can come in. I need somewhere we can talk, somewhere no one else can come in._

“What the…” Amber trails off. She’s gaping at the door that just suddenly popped into existence.

“Come on, it’s a safe place for us to talk. No one else will hear,” I tell her, taking her by the hand. When we walk into the room, it’s like a plush living room, much how I’d imagine a therapist’s office would look. The walls are a soft shade of beige, and it’s lit very softly by two floor lamps. There’s a couch facing two plush armchairs, a table between the chairs. Scorpius and I sit in the armchairs and Holly sits down on the couch, patting the seat next to her for Amber. Hesitantly, she sits down, poised on the edge of the couch as if ready to flee if necessary.

“Now, Amber, we didn’t really get to talk earlier. This is a place where no one can find us, no one can hear us, and none of the information you share in here goes to anyone else, besides Flitwick. And I’ll only tell him if it directly pertains to capturing the… er… the Alpha, or to someone’s safety. Do you understand?” I ask her, trying my best to be soft but convincing.

“Yes,” she whispers quietly, her eyes darting around the room. “Why are… um… no offense, why are they here?” she asks, not meeting anyone’s eye.

“They’re my friends, and they’ve been involved in this since the start. I told them what you told me. I thought it best if we keep everything open, so you don’t feel you’re being deceived.”

“We care about Rose and only want to keep her safe,” Scorpius adds.

“And you,” Holly pipes up. “We want you to be safe as well, and we want to help you.”

“Well… What do you want to talk about? What is this about?” she asks, still not meeting anyone’s eye.

“I, personally, want to know more about the pack. Their rituals, beliefs, and how they work,” Holly says. When we give her a look, she adds indignantly, “What? Know thine enemy.”

“I want to know more about your letter campaign with him. What you’ve been saying to him, what he’s been saying to you, why he decided to take her now, that sort of thing,” Scorp declares.

“I just want this to be a place where we talk, where you feel safe. I want you to know it’s a good place to talk about him, and about how you’re feeling. I mean, yes I would like to know all those other things, but I won’t push you,” I tell her. After a moment, I add, “And, yes, I would also like to talk about where he is and how we can find him.”

“Well, let’s start with something easy,” Holly says softly. “Let’s just start by talking, getting to know each other. My name’s Holly Brookes.”

“Scorpius Malfoy,” he adds, nodding to her.

“So, Amber, tell us more about yourself. How are your classes?” I ask her, smiling. She shrugs. “Any friends?”

“Hard to make friends when you have to lie to them about who you are,” she says, trying to force nonchalance, but I can hear the bitterness and anger.

“We’d like to be your friends, and you don’t have to lie to us.”

“Can we please, please just stop with the therapist-stuff? Let’s just talk about the pack, and the Alpha, and the letters. Most importantly, what I’m going to write and tell him about the lockdown,” she says loudly, standing up quickly. She starts pacing around the room. “He follows the news. He’ll know the school was shut down. Knowing how many eyes and ears he has, he’ll know that they were interrogating students. What am I supposed to tell him?”

“The truth,” Scorpius says bluntly.

“He’ll kill me for blowing our plan,” she responds, equally as blunt.

“A modified version of the truth, I meant. Tell him they were asking all the students these weird questions about seemingly random things, but you knew they were asking to find the werewolf. The interrogators couldn’t use Veritaserum due to ethical questions, so they couldn’t implicate you. When it got close to the full moon, you realized everything you worked for would be ruined if you wolfed out in the common room without taking Wolfsbane, so you came clean and told Flitwick and Rose. Tell him they want you to be a spy, but really you plan on telling him everything we tell you, and that you’re gonna tell us all lies about him,” he clarifies.

“And what about Rose? Once he knows that she knows, it’ll show him that the plan is ruined,” she points out, sinking back onto the couch.

“Tell him the truth. Tell him Rose has grown closer with you, that she feels bad you’re ‘being used’ by the Big Bad Alpha. She trusts you now, since she thinks you’re a spy. And, now she’s curious about pack life and keeps asking you all about him. That ought to please him,” Scorp adds, smiling satisfiedly to himself.

“So, it’s like the truth, but not fully truthful?” Holly asks, her face pinched up in concentration.

“Just a very small lie. It’s brilliant!” I shout gleefully.

“Right, that’s a good plan. I’ll write a letter explaining as soon as we get back to the common room. Are we ready to go?”

“No. I need to know what pack life would be like. What it is like, for you, I mean. It’s… I just have to know. It’s important,” I sigh.

“That’s a rather complex question. Pack life is… hard to explain,” she says hesitantly, drawing herself back into the couch.

“So tell me about what he’d do if he gets me. He keeps talking about ‘marking me as his own’ and whatnot. What does that mean?” She breathes in sharply.

“It’s called the marking process, or mating ceremony. When a male reaches a certain age, he’s allowed to choose a mate. When he does choose his mate, he takes her to the compound. The keep her locked up until the next full moon, purifying her. They feed her a specific diet, claiming they’re cleansing her of the human taint. Then, the night before the full moon, she gets to see her mate. And, well, you know how a werewolf’s nails leave a permanent scar, regardless of the moon’s phase?”

“Yeah,” we all chorus.

“Well… er… the mate then goes and takes his nails, and leaves a mark on her body. Where it is, what it looks like and its size depend on the person doing the marking. What that does is it… er… transfers the, um, pheromones of the wolf onto his mate. Any other wolf knows that the mate belongs to someone, and they shouldn’t be tampered with. Then, some wolves go on and… well, they consummate their relationship, if you get my drift? It makes the pheromones stronger and really binds the two. Finally, on the night of the full moon, the wolf bites his mate and the transformation is complete,” she finishes, nearly whispering. We all sit in silence, hanging on her every word. Holly is the first to break the silence.

“So basically, it’s kidnap, starvation, torture, rape, and forcible turning?” she asks, her upper lip curling in disgust.

“Some mates aren’t forced to come. Sometimes, a wolf meets someone and they fall in love and she volunteers to come and be turned. It’s, well yeah it’s a bad way of doing things but it’s how he does it,” Amber replies quietly, her face turning red. “I don’t mean to be defending it. I just… it’s not always black and white, you know?” I just nod.

“Oh, damn. She’s late for curfew. Firsties have an earlier curfew than we do, remember,” Scorpius finally says, glancing at his watch. We rush her back to the common room and find all the younger students, disgruntled at being forced back into the common room. None of the older students are back yet, seeing as they have another half an hour before their curfew.

“What I don’t understand is why Madame Pomfrey and the headmaster asked us all those weird questions,” one of the second years said to her friends.

“Well, I heard Madame Pomfrey’s questions were a routine thing she needed for the Ministry or the Department of Health or something,” another responded.

“Yeah, but were Flitwick’s? I don’t understand how those questions even made any sense,” another replied.

“Yeah, he just asked us if we had anything we felt we should share, any secrets that pertained to the school and students’ safety and whatnot,” the first one said.

“Maybe he was looking for whomever released the Tebos,” I asked them. They all jumped when I burst in on their conversation. “Maybe Flitwick thinks it wasn’t an accident, or something?” As they’re off discussing that, I follow Holly up to our dormitory. Due to the excitement of last night and today, I’d decided on an early night.

That night, I dreamt of the Alpha.


	21. Dreams and Nightmares

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> My dreams were a series of confusing, paralyzingly terrifying images, and hazy, uncertain instincts.  
> I was tied down; I could feel the binds chafing at my wrists and ankles. All I could feel beneath me was something hard and unyielding, but not so hard as a floor. Faces forced themselves into my field of vision, two men, leering over me. Big eyes, lips curled in a sneer, and jagged fangs peeking out from their mouths.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning for some potentially disturbing nightmare material

**Chapter 21: Dreams and Nightmares**

  
  


My dreams were a series of confusing, paralyzingly terrifying images, and hazy, uncertain instincts.

I was tied down; I could feel the binds chafing at my wrists and ankles. All I could feel beneath me was something hard and unyielding, but not so hard as a floor. Faces forced themselves into my field of vision, two men, leering over me. Big eyes, lips curled in a sneer, and jagged fangs peeking out from their mouths.

“We’re purifying you, you dirty slut,” they shouted in tandem. Their voices are deep and grumbling, and a shiver runs down my back. They pour something cold and bitter down my throat. Some part of me knows it’s bleach. “We’re cleaning you,” they tell me. I try to spit out the liquid, or scream, or move, but nothing works; I can’t move.

The faces change, becoming the face from the photographs. He leans close, grabbing my chin. His fingernails end in sharp, claw-like points, black with dirt and old, dried blood. He puts his claws on my chest, pressing harder and harder. Just as my skin reaches its breaking point, a piercing white light jolts me awake.

 

“Scorp, shut up, man,” someone groans.

“What’s your problem, Sam?” I ask them, rubbing my eyes. Someone had shined their wand in my face, trying to wake me up.

“You were moaning and screaming, and you’re keeping me up,” he replies. The room goes dark again and I’m left sitting in the dark, contemplating what I had just seen. Suddenly, I’m hit in the gut by a terrible feeling.

My lungs seem to constrict and I can’t get a full breath, leaving me with panicky, short huffs. My heart starts racing, dancing along to the pounding drum in my head. Though the room is cold, beads of sweat form on my forehead. I stand up to throw some water in my face, but I’m hit somewhere deep in my gut by a terrifying, overwhelming fear, and an intense urge to protect. Without pulling on any clothes, I grab my wand and run down the stairs towards the common room.

There’s a piercing scream ringing around in my head, and I drop to one knee, screwing my eyes shut to try and make it stop. The feeling in my gut returns, only it’s no longer just fear. It pulls me towards the girls’ dorms. All thoughts are erased from my head, and the desire to protect rears its head again. I don’t even have the mental presence to question why I can run up the stairs without them throwing me down.

Slamming the door open, I rush over to Rose’s bed. She’s thrashing about, tangled up hopelessly in her blankets. She whimpers and moans piteously and the screaming in my head grows stronger. There’s a jolt of pain that rushes through my head, and the image of the two men standing above me from my dream blinds me for a moment. I blink my eyes a few times, trying to make it go away.

“Scorp, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” Holly whispers to me. I hear her speaking, but I can’t process the words. All I know is that I have to protect Rose, I have to save her. I scoop her up, blankets and all and I carry her down to the common room. The screaming in my head stops as her whimpering stops.

“Scorp?” she whispers, not opening her eyes. Holly pads back down the stairs behind us, and Rose wraps her arms around my neck.

“I’m here. You’re okay,” I tell her.

“Oh, Scorp, it was horrible,” she cries.

“Let’s go sit on the couch. Let’s talk it out, you know?” I sit us down on the couch, helping her rearrange the blankets more comfortably around herself.

“I had a terrible dream, Scorp. It was awful. I just… It was about… _him_ ,” she whispered, staring at the fire. “I was tied down and laying on something hard and cold. And then there were these men staring at me, forcing me to drink bleach and…” she trailed off, and I got an eerie feeling.

“Saying they’d purify you? Then the Alpha put his claws on you?” I asked.

“How did you know?” she asked, looking at me from her peripheral vision.

“That was my dream, then Sam woke me up because I was making too much noise. I felt like I was having an attack and I looked for you, felt like I needed to protect you. Like when you needed help with Amber,” I explained, my voice hushed.

“Oh, this is way too freaky,” Holly gasps, somewhat sarcastically. Neither one of us looks at her.

“We had the same dream?” Rose sputters, her eyes widening as she looks at me.

“Is that even possible? I mean, I know your uncle had dreams of what You-Know-Who was doing, but that’s different… This is,” I paused, searching for the correct word.

“Magical?” Holly snorts. I purse my lips at her. “Oh come on; you go to a _magic_ school and learn how to do _magic_ things. You can make flowers out of thin air, shoot arrows from a _magic_ _stick_ , and even make your teeth grow, but you can’t accept that you had the same dream?”

“This isn’t the same,” Rose insists, but even she sounds a little unsure of herself. When she puts it that way, it does sound a little ridiculous.

“Let’s not focus on the how of the problem, but the what. What was the dream about? Talking about it can sometimes help,” Holly continues. “You gave me an overview, but I really think talking in depth can help. I suppose it could also help us figure out why you both had this dream.”

“Well, I suppose it could help…” Rose trailed off. Holly smiled and straightened, presumably trying to look more official.

“Now, start at the beginning,” she drawls.

 

Godric, no. Not another bloody, red envelope.

It stands out, even amongst all the other envelopes being dropped at breakfast the next morning. It seems like every student has gotten at least one letter. Total radio silence must have really scared the parents. Even with over a thousand owls fluttering around, dropping letter after letter, I can pick that envelope out, watching it come towards me with a sort of paralyzed fear.

As it falls towards me, I see people watching. They assume it’s a Howler. What has the perfect, saintly, prudish prefect Rose Weasley done to warrant a Howler? I’d much prefer it was a Howler. I’d prefer to hear my mother yelling to the entire Great Hall that I’m a failure to the family than read another damned letter from _him_.

But alas, it’s not a Howler.

When it lands in front of me, I watch it for a few moments, hoping against hope that it’ll explode in a burst of flames and noise. When I am forced to accept that it really is just a letter, I shove it into my bag, only touching it with my fingertips. If I can help it, I don’t want to touch anything that he has touched. I don’t want to associate myself or even my mitochondrial DNA with him or his DNA. I want no part of him.

Luckily, it was only Scorpius I was sitting with. Holly was taking forever getting ready this morning, so I told her I’d save her some food. And good old Scorp, always so engrossed in his food, didn’t even notice the envelope as it fell. Or at least, if he did, he didn’t mention it to me. And if he wasn’t going to bring it up, I certainly wasn’t.

“Potions first today, yeah?” he asks, a scrap of sausage falling out of his mouth as he speaks.

“Yeah,” I tell him. But that’s all I tell him.

 

“Um, Rose, can we talk?” Amber asks quietly. I look up from my textbook. I can feel Scorp shifting in his seat beside me. I can see the corner of a red envelope sticking out of her bag. In one instant, I have all my books and parchments gathered up in my hands. Scorp and Holly rush to catch up as we start purposefully towards the seventh floor corridor.

“I got a letter from him,” she tells us once the door to the Room of Requirement has closed behind us. “I wrote him that letter that we talked about last night, the one with mostly truths, but just one lie? He bought it, I think. But now… he’s angry,” she said, biting her lip.

“With you?” Holly asks.

“With you,” she says, gesturing to me. “Angry isn’t really the right word. More like, he’s frustrated. He was originally planning to wait, to take you after your seventeenth birthday. There’s a full moon the next day, but now he said he can’t wait. He’s going to try and take you as soon as possible… and he wants me to help, to lure you out of school.” There’s silence in the room.

“We have to tell Flitwick,” Scorpius says, standing up.

“Wait, let’s just… I have a letter too. I didn’t read it because, well, I wanted it to go away. Can we just read it before we go storming Flitwick’s office?” I pleaded with him, pulling him back down onto his armchair.

“What logic is that?” Holly asks, her face pale. It’s clear she’s trying to diffuse the tension, but she’s terrified.

“Bite the bullet, get it all over with, I don’t know. Just let me read it,” I snap. Everyone quiets down as I reach inside my bag. My hands shake as I unfold the letter.

 

_Dearest Rose,_

_So, you’ve found my friend, have you? Good. I do hope she can explain pack life to you, and it will be nice to have an ally when you join my pack. Friends are so important in life, and even more important in pack life._

_Now, perhaps when we finally meet again, you will understand why I want you to enjoy this life with me._

_See you soon,_

_Alpha_

“See you soon,” I whispered softly. “What does yours say?”

“It’s… I don’t want to read it aloud,” she says, shifting uncomfortably.

“Please, let me read it. I need to see,” I beg her.

“No, Rose, let’s just go. Don’t get those things in your head. Flitwick needs to see this,” Scorp says gently, guiding me to my feet. After a moment’s hesitation, we leave and start towards Flitwick’s office.

“I must say, I’m getting a bit sick of going to see Flitwick. Every damn week, I’m walking this same path. I’m surprised there aren’t groove marks in the floor from my travels,” I try to joke. Scorp smiles weakly, but no one laughs. The only time there’s any interaction is when Amber forgets to jump the vanishing step. Following behind her, I trip and sink into the same trap. While Holly lifts Amber out, Scorp grabs me and pulls me out, steadying me by taking my hand. He continues to pull me along, long after I’d my balance back.

“Ah, Rose, I was wondering when you’d bring me this,” Flitwick said lightly when we knocked on his door. Upon seeing our confusion, he adds, “I saw the owl delivering it this morning. Beautiful creatures, owls.”

“That came this morning, and you just now told us?” Scorpius asks incredulously. I shrug.

“I didn’t really want to think about it. In all honesty, I just wanted it to go away.”

“Ah, yes, well, I think you can just give me that and be on your way,” Flitwick interjects, holding his hand out.

“Professor, I got a letter too, and I think it’s rather important that you see it,” Amber says softly, holding out the letter. We watch as he skims through it quickly, his eyes widening at an alarming rate.

“Miss Wells, it seems that some parts of the letter have been obscured. Might I ask why?” he says, peering at her over his glasses.

“Sir, it’s nothing important. Just him…” she mumbles something after this, but nobody can hear her.

“I need you to speak up, dear. I find that as I’m getting on in years, it becomes harder to hear students.”

“The parts I obscured are the parts where he’s, er, rebuking me. I didn’t particularly want everyone reading it.” Flitwick just nodded and started waving his wand over the parchment. After a moment, he began reading again, nodding now.

“I see. Well, I will share this with the Aurors and we will work on securing the school against intruders. In the meantime, we ask that you not make it any easier for him. Don’t go sneaking out. Stay inside as much as possible. Don’t leave your common room past curfew.”

“What about my prefect patrol shifts, sir?”

“I’d prefer it if someone else cover them for you. If absolutely necessary, you can work them with a partner. Perhaps Mr. Malfoy, seeing as he knows your situation.”

“Of course, sir,” Scorpius responds promptly.

“And Christmas, sir? Do I have to stay here for Christmas?”

“I’ll discuss safety measures with the Aurors and I will get back to you. Now, I really must be getting on with my work. I do believe you must have homework to be doing,” he suggests softly.

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” I tell him sullenly.

“Don’t be so bummed! It’s not like you sneak out into Hogsmeade all the time anyways! Nothing really has to change,” Holly grins at me, nudging me with her elbow as we walk back to the common room.

“It’s different. Before, I chose not to leave. Now, I’m forced to stay. It’s like I’ve been trapped. And spending Christmas here? I mean, I get that Hogwarts at Christmas is beautiful, but I like to spend it with my family, you know?”

“Well, no use worrying about it now,” Scorp says bracingly. “All we have to worry about now is that Potions essay. I mean, four feet on the ethics of Amortentia? That’ll take _ages_.”

“But there’s so much debate about it! So much information, so much material to write about! It shouldn’t even be a problem to make four feet!” Holly says, laughing.

“But _four_ _feet_! I feel like I’ll just end up repeating myself,” he moans.

“Yeah, well, repetition is the key to learning,” Holly grins.

“Repetition is the key to learning?” I ask, sarcastically.

“Yes, repetition _is_ the key to learning,” Amber responds, with a small smile.

“Oh shut up,” Scorpius sneers. “Three against one; it’s not fair,” he mutters. I punch his arm lightly and, without speaking, make the shift. Without even waiting for anyone else, I take off, running outside at top speed.


	22. Winter Is Coming

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The grounds of Hogwarts never look more enticing than when you’ve been ordered to stay inside and keep your head down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas Eve, readers!

**Chapter 22: Winter is Coming**

 

The grounds of Hogwarts never look more enticing than when you’ve been ordered to stay inside and keep your head down. 

“Rose, come outside! James and Dom are starting a snowball fight!” Al whispers to me, leaning over my potions book one afternoon.

“I can’t, Al. I’ve got to get started on this Charms assignment,” I tell him. He groans, but runs outside to enjoy the first snowfall of the season. But I am forced to spend every afternoon holed up, either in the common room or the library. In the evenings, Scorpius, Holly, Amber and I meet in the Room of Requirement to discuss our day.

“I feel like I’m suffocating,” I tell Holly late one night after we’ve gone up to bed. “I don’t get to do anything any more! If I don’t get to go out and do something, I’m going to scream.”

“Well, you know why they want you to stay inside. They’d prefer you bored and safe than going out, having fun and being snatched,” she says reasonably.

“I don’t really care! I just want to go sneak out and do something I shouldn’t! Not even something crazy; I just want to sneak down to the kitchens or something!”

“Listen, if you’re going that insane, just go down to the bloody kitchens. We can go right now, if you like!” I stand up and pull on my slippers. “Wait,” Holly says quickly. “I didn’t really mean  _ right now _ . I kind of hoped reverse psychology would work. I’m sort of exhausted.” She yawned, emphasizing her point, but I wasn’t tired at all. I was wired; every neuron was firing and I could not stand to sit still another moment.

“I’ll go by myself, but I can’t sit around any longer. Do you want a snack?” She doesn’t respond, just looks at me, gaping. “I’ll bring you some sweets or something. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”

“Rose, don’t!” she calls after me, but I run down the stairs, ignoring her. Hidden in the doorway of the second year girl’s dormitory, I put a disillusionment charm on myself. I shiver, feeling the cold dripping down my neck. As I slowly walk down the stairs, I end up following Amber as she exits her dorm.

Picking my way carefully across the common room so as to avoid accidentally bumping into someone, I watch her settle herself onto an armchair, opening a textbook. When I’m halfway across the room, I see a couple of second year boys walk by her. One of them sucks noisily on his thumb while the other laughs meanly, looking right at Amber. I’ve stopped trying to cross the common room, instead just watching as Amber slams her textbook and storms away, walking towards me. I just manage to sidestep her as she goes to sit on the windowsill behind me, hidden behind a wide bookcase.

“I know you’re there, Rose,” Amber whispers, sniffling softly. I step behind the bookcase and remove the disillusionment charm.

“How did you know?” I ask her, unable to help my curiosity.

“My… er… super senses, remember?” she says ruefully, staring out the window.

“My grandma, what big ears you have,” I mutter softly.

“And big nose; don’t forget that,” she reminds me. We stand in silence for a moment, the only sound passing is the occasional sniffle from Amber. She still won’t look at me.

“So, uh, what happened out there?” I finally ask, softly.

“Nothing important,” she whispers. “Just another day, another idiot who thinks he’s Ricky Gervais.”

“Are you sure? Sometimes talking about it is pretty helpful, remember?”

“No, I don’t want to talk about it,” she says through gritted teeth. One of the boys from earlier pops his head behind the bookcase, sneering at Amber.

“Aw, did we make the ickle little firstie baby cry?” he asks in a mock-baby voice.

“Shut up, Allen,” she growls. He tosses something at her and she grabs it just before it hits the floor. When she picks it up, she snarls. As she throws it to the ground, I see that it’s a baby’s pacifier. She lunges towards Allen, and I just manage to pull her back before she claws his face with her nails.

“Remember what your nails can do to a person, Amber,” I tell her. She stops fighting me and goes limp in my arms as Allen runs off, back to his friends. She slumps onto the ground, breathing heavily and I kneel down next to her.

“Want to talk about it now?” I ask her gently.

“I’ve taken to sleeping in the common room,” she says after a pause. “Because I keep having night terrors and waking the other girls. One morning, Allen and his friend Jeffrey must have been up early or something, because they came downstairs while I was still asleep. I must have been having a night terror or something, and I guess I was whimpering and sucking my thumb like an infant when they found me. They haven’t let it go yet. That’s all.”

“Oh, that’s not even- that’s- that doesn’t even make sense as something to tease you for!” She just shrugs and looks out the window again, still sitting dejectedly on the floor. “No, really, think about it! I read once that, during times of fear or panic or things like that, the mind wants to return itself to a safe place or time which, for many, is childhood. The mind reverts back to how one dealt with problems then, most often by sucking one’s thumb. It happens during sleep because people’s natural defenses are down and they don’t think about whether it’s socially appropriate to do something! You weren’t doing it because you act like a baby; you were doing it because you were frightened and your mind was trying to help you cope!”

“The truth doesn’t matter,” she says with a bitter laugh. “It’s all about how people perceive you.” I have nothing to say to that, because she is absolutely right. I couldn’t change Allen and Jeffrey’s opinions with a few pretty words I’d read in a muggle psychology book I found in my grandparents house. Nothing could change their minds now. I couldn’t fix this problem for her; I could only comfort her.

“You’re right. You are absolutely right. But, that’s no reason for us to sit here and mope and let them know they’ve gotten to us. We should go up to my dorm. You can sleep there tonight, if you like,” I offer. She shrugs, then nods, smiling very shyly, as if worried I’ll rescind the offer if she appears overeager. “But first, we should get some snacks. Follow me.” I march back up the stairs to the girl’s dormitories, again crouching in the doorway of the second year girls’ room. I put one finger to my lips as she opens her mouth to ask a question. While she stands there silently, I cast a Disillusionment charm on her. She shivers and her eyes widen just before she goes invisible. After a moment, I cast it on myself and whisper quietly.

“Amber? Where are you? Grab the door handle,” I tell her. When I put my hand there, her small, warm hand finds mine. I grab onto her and pull her with me. We carefully pick our way across the common room, but there’s no way to disguise the door opening. Luckily, there are very few students still down here, and the only ones who are have their noses buried so deeply in their books that I doubt anyone would notice. Once we slip out, it’s not until we’re on a staircase that I hear Amber speak.

“Where are we going? Isn’t this exactly what Flitwick told us not to do?” she hisses.

“Going to the kitchens. It’ll be quick. Now hush, or else the portraits will hear us.” She quiets down until we get into the kitchens. Taking the spell off of us, we find a few elves still meandering around the kitchen. Hokey brings us a good mix of snacks before I put the charms back on. 

“Amber?” I whisper softly as we’re walking back through the halls.

“Mmm?” she mumbles.

“What are you doing for the holidays?” The entire castle was starting to feel the Christmas spirit. Hagrid had brought the Christmas trees into the Great Hall and the prefects were due to start decorating tomorrow. But whenever someone brought up the holidays around Amber, she withdrew from the conversation. 

“Probably stalking you with the Alpha,” she says wryly. Since we’re invisible I can’t tell if she’s smiling or grimacing.

“Why don’t you come round to mine? Tell him that I was afraid you’d be lonely, so I invited you to stay with us. Then you have an inside link, and you can spy on me for him,” I offer. She tugs on my hand, grinding to a halt.

“You’d really do that?” she asks.

“Of course. I don’t want you to be stuck with him all by yourself. I want to help you, to protect you,” I tell her. An invisible force squeezes me, and I know she’s hugging me.

“Thank you, I’d love to come,” she answers after releasing me. We walk in silence again, but it is considerably lighter now.

Sneaking back into the common room is infinitely harder than sneaking out, since we can’t determine if anyone is in there. There’s also the riddle to tend to, seeing as everyone can tell when someone is trying to get in. Luckily for us, the common room is practically empty when we sneak out. Unluckily for us, Holly and Scorp are the only people left.

“Rose Weasley, I am so disappointed in you,” Holly says lowly, looking towards the door. But Amber and I moved and are now standing right behind them. SIlently, I take the spell off of her, then me. “You take that cloak off right now and show yourself!” she shrieks, stomping her foot.

“Not a cloak, love,” I whisper in her ear. Her voice jumps a few octaves as she whirls around, whacking my arm.

“I could kill you,” she says breathily, holding her chest.

“But you won’t,” I remind her, “Because I brought you some chocolate cake.” Producing the basket of food, I see Holly’s anger start to waver. While she decides whether or not to eat the cake, Scorpius turns to Amber.

“You went out with her? And you didn’t stop her?” he asks quietly. Amber shrugs.

“You do realize I’m five years your junior, right? Would you listen to me, for any reason?” Scorp bites his lip (Oh good  _ Godric, _ he’s bloody attractive), conceding.

“You snuck out for snacks? When you knew about the danger?” He rounds on me, now, nostrils flaring. “You’re not that thick. Please, tell me you’re not that thick. Tell me there was some other reason you went out, other than fancying a snack.”

“There was, actually. I was going  _ insane _ , Scorp! I felt like I couldn’t breathe in here! All I do is go to class, go to meals and come back up here. I don’t even get to go see Teddy and Vic and the kids when they come to visit Hogsmeade this weekend. I needed to get out, and this was the safest way to do it!” No one responds to me and everything is quiet. The only sound is Amber, trying desperately to stifle a yawn.

“We should get to bed,” Holly says. Hitching the basket on the crook of her elbow, she starts up the stairs. “Be up in five minutes, or I’m waking the entire castle in search of you,” she warns. Scorp and I just look at each other for a moment. Finally, I lean in and hug him tightly.

“Nothing happened, it probably won’t happen again. See you in the morning,” I whisper, releasing him. He and I both turn to go up the stairs. After he’s bounded up into his dormitory, I notice that Amber hasn’t moved. “Coming to bed?” I ask her.

“Night terrors, remember? It’s better I sleep down here so as not to wake my roommates. They already think I’m strange enough,” she mumbles, gesturing to the couch.

“Come on, come sleep in our dorm for the night. It’ll be like a sleepover! If you’re really worried, I know a spell so that we won’t wake the rest of the girls.” She wavers for a moment, looking critically at the couch.

“I suppose,” she says softly, following after me slowly. Holly is already settled in her bed when we get up there. Without a word, I conjure a cot for Amber, stationing it between Holly and me. She curls up under the blankets and I put the  _ muffliato _ charms up around all three of our beds, locking all noise in. The only sounds I can hear are the steady breathing of Holly and Amber, like a rhythmic pattern, lulling me to sleep.

 

I wake to a small snuffling noise, pained whimpers piercing through the veil of dreams. When I open my eyes, they fall on Amber as the source of the noise. She’s curled so tightly under the blankets that she almost disappears. Her thumb is jammed in her mouth and it seems as if she’s biting it. Her brows knit together, another whimper escapes and she turns, trying to escape whatever dream she’s in.

It’s this that wakes me, jolts me to help her and move. Shaking her shoulder, she wakes with a startled shout. When she opens her eyes, there’s a wild, crazed fear in them. She struggles, trying to push her way out of the blankets, but she’s all tangled up in them. Kicking and crying out, it takes a moment before she realizes she’s awake. When the fear has left her eyes, it’s replaced by tears, and clear embarrassment.

“Rose,” she mumbles. Without saying anything, I motion for her to join me on my bed. I wrap my arms around her and hold her, just trying to stop her trembling. As her breathing slows considerably, I realize she’s fallen back asleep. When I look over at Holly’s bed, she’s watching me silently, a sympathetic look in her eyes. In the way that only best friends can, I know that she and I are thinking the same thing.

_ What has she been through? What is it that’s keeping her up at night? _

 

“Rosie, wanna meet me in Hogsmeade for some drinks? Maybe you can help me buy some of my last minute Christmas presents?” Lily asks me one Saturday morning. The last Hogsmeade weekend before break, but I’m still locked up, still getting letters, still unable to go anywhere.

“I can’t, not today.” Before I can even try to come up with an excuse, she steamrolls right over me.

“Oh, Rose, come on! You haven’t been anywhere besides classes and the library in weeks! Teddy and Vic are bringing the kids down to Hogsmeade, and you’re the  _ only one _ who hasn’t met the baby yet!” That’s a low blow, and she knows it. Teddy’s been begging me via letter to come out and meet the baby. He won’t even tell me the gender, or name or anything until I’ve visited.

“Rose can’t come out to Hogsmeade today, I’m afraid. She and I have detention,” Scorp says, sliding into the seat next to me, simultaneously stealing food from my plate.

“Ooh, perfect little Rose has detention, did I hear? About time! Mucking up the family reputation, you are,” James grins, descending upon us. “Even your mum got a few detentions in her day. What’d you do?”

“Snuck out,” Scorpius says through a mouthful of food.

“To the library,” I add.

“I was almost proud of you, you know?” James laughs.

“When are you going to see the baby, then?” Lily asks, rolling her eyes. “Honestly,” she mumbles.

“Christmas is next week. I think I’ll manage to see Teddy and Vic sometime during break,” I remind her. She huffs and stomps away. James just grins, stealing a sausage off my plate before returning to Gryffindor table.

“I’m really getting sick of lying to everyone, Scorp,” I sigh.


	23. Christmas Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Rose, what do I pack?” Amber asks me, popping her head into my dormitory. It’s the night before the train leaves, and I’d just finished packing my own trunk for the break.  
> “Pack your muggle clothes, your wand, you know, stuff like that,” I shrug. She bites her lip.  
> “Um, about that,” she says softly, biting her lip.

**Chapter 23: Christmas Break**

  
  


“Rose, what do I pack?” Amber asks me, popping her head into my dormitory. It’s the night before the train leaves, and I’d just finished packing my own trunk for the break.

“Pack your muggle clothes, your wand, you know, stuff like that,” I shrug. She bites her lip.

“Um, about that,” she says softly, biting her lip. Her gaze falls on Amy and Nora, who are chatting on their beds about their upcoming break plans. Getting the hint, I follow her out and back to her dormitory. “I don’t have all that many muggle clothes,” she admits. She’s laid a few things out on her bed: a ragged pair of jeans, ripped and torn beyond belief, an oversized green jumper and a purple long-sleeved blouse that’s fraying at the cuffs.

“Alright, what else do you have?” I ask her, putting my hands on my hips.

“That’s it,” she sighs. 

“Ah, I see the problem,” I tell her. “Here’s what we’ll do. Pack the clothes in a rucksack- do you have a rucksack?” She nods. “Right. When we get back into London, we’ll go to a shop and get you a few things. And you can have a look through my old clothes, take anything that fits.”

“Why are you so nice to me? I’ve lied to you, I’ve stolen, I’ve cheated, I’ve done terrible things. Why are you so good?” She asks, hugging me.

“You’re just a kid. Everything you’ve done, well, it’s not been your choice. Not really, and I can’t hold you responsible for that,” I tell her somewhat awkwardly. “I’ll meet you on the train tomorrow, yeah? I have to go meet Holly and Scorp.” She nods and waves as I run back out, down the stairs and up into Scorp’s dorm room.

“No, listen, I’m not saying it’s  _ wrong, _ just that it’s  _ implausible _ !” I hear Scorp yell. Sighing, I go in, ready to stop Scorp and Holly from ripping each other limb from limb over yet another philosophical debate. Just another evening in the Ravenclaw House.

 

“Tell me something, Rosie, my dear,” Dom drawls as we’re watching the countryside roll by. James and Al have challenged Hugo and Scorpius to an Exploding Snap tournament, so we made them find a different car to sit in. Holly went off with Lily and the Scamander twins in search of the food trolley. Amber hasn’t shown up yet, so it’s just Dom and I in the car when she starts this conversation.

“Anything for you, love,” I grin lazily at her.

“What is your fascination with this first year girl? You’ve been eating meals with her, studying with her in the library, hanging out together, and now you invite her to spend Christmas with us? I mean, I’m sure she’s nice but what is so special that’s drawn you to her?” She twirls one strand of hair around her finger as she speaks, narrowing her eyes and tilting her head. God, she can’t turn off the charm, even when she’s talking to family.

“She’s a sweet kid who’s got a really terrible home life. I always tell first years that they can come to me when they have a problem and she did. She just needed a friend and I wanted to be one for her is all,” I responded easily. My cousins all know about the stalker, but only Holly and Scorpius know that Amber is, er, associated with him.

“But she’s so  _ young _ ,” Dom replies. “How do you get over that age gap?” She leans forward, putting her chin in her hands and her elbows on her knees.

“I told you she’s a rotten home life. It’s aged her, made her a bit wise beyond her years. I mean, yeah, sometimes you realize you’re talking to a kid, but most of the time it’s like just talking to a friend.” Dom nods and just turns back out to the window. Not long after, there’s a timid knock on the door. I turn my head and find Amber standing there in her ripped jeans and oversized jumper, carrying a dirty, old rucksack over her shoulder. 

“Amber, come on in!” I wave to her. She keeps her head down, just meeting my eyes and smiling as she sits down. “Amber, this is my cousin Dominique. Dom, this is Amber.” Amber nods, smiling at Dom. As Amber puts her pack on the overhead rack, I watch Dom purse her lips as she looks Amber up and down, her disapproval coming through loud and clear. I clear my throat meaningfully. When Dom meets my eyes, I mouth ‘home life’ at her and she seems to catch on, remembering what I had told her. Before any of us have a chance to speak further, the boys all come back in, laughing and shoving each other. Holly and Lily follow closely behind. Amber squeals in the chaos when someone is shoved and falls on her lap.

“BOYS!” Lily roars over the din, immediately quieting everyone. Al mumbles an apology as he climbs off of Amber’s lap. Her eyes are rounder than galleons, and Al just looks confused.

“Boys, play nice, now. We have a guest,” Dom says primly, inclining her head towards Amber, who blushes furiously having been put on the spot.

“Right, everyone this is Amber. Amber these are my cousins James, Al, and Lily, my brother Hugo and of course you know Holly and Scorp and Dom.” Each person nods as I introduce them. As everyone settles back into the car, I see the London skyline start to appear.

“Look! It’s the city!” I call out. Everyone starts shouting about how they need to change. Well, everyone except for Amber, Dom and I, the only ones who are already changed. The girls all decide to go out into the hall so that the boys can close the shades and change. Lily runs off to find somewhere that she can change. All over the train, other people are starting to run around, excited to be going home.

“So, Amber, how are you liking Hogwarts so far?” Dom asks. She shrugs, still uneasy around Dom.

“It’s okay. Classes are more interesting,” she says shortly. Dom doesn’t speak again after that. As the train gets closer to the station, it’s a haze of yelling and confusion as everyone tries to get all their stuff ready so they can leave. As everyone spills out onto the platform, I cling onto Amber’s hand so that she doesn’t disappear in the crowd. It’s not hard for me to follow the red hair and find my family all congregated in one area.

“Rosie!” Teddy shouts, running towards me. I drop all my things on the floor, instantly regretting it when I hear Sherlock’s protest, and throw my arms around him.

“Teddy, this is Amber. She’s staying with me this break. Where’s the kids?” I look around, but don’t see them around.

“First time you’ve seen me in ages and that’s all you care about? No ‘how are you Teddy?’ No ‘how’s work?’ Nothing?” He laughs. “Hello, nice to meet you, Amber. My name’s Teddy, Teddy Lupin.” He offers her a hand and she shakes it, eyes widening. Noticing this, he adds, “Did I say something wrong?”

“No, sir, I just, I’ve heard of your reputation,” she says breathily. Teddy cocks his head before his eyes widen in understanding.

“From your, er, ‘family’?” he asks. She nods, and I realize she’s talking about the pack. Picking up my things, I move over to my parents.

“Mum, Dad, this is Amber,” I offer. She pulls herself away from Teddy to smile shyly at my parents.

“Pleased to meet you, dear. Perhaps we should move this conversation to the car? Or at least somewhere a little less busy,” Mum suggests as someone elbows past her. We all nod and follow her as she briskly makes her way to the car. Piling all six of us, plus all our things is no easy feat- for muggles. My parents, of course, follow in my grandfather Weasley’s footsteps and have equipped themselves with a car that’s been magically expanded, though Dad swears ours doesn’t fly.

“Mum, when can we go shopping? It’ll have to be soon,” I remind her as Dad pulls onto the motorway.

“I’ll drop the boys off at home and we can go out and find everything we need,” Mum promises. “So, how are your classes going?”

“Five minutes into break and we’re already talking school and grades and things?” Hugo groans.

“I just want to ask about your education! You’re both approaching important years in your schooling! Rose will be taking N.E.W.T.s next year and Hugo, you’ll be taking your O.W.L.s next year! This year is important, as are your classes.”

“But this is our  _ break _ , Mum. Our  _ holiday break _ ,” Hugo continues.

“Just leave it, Hugo. You should know by now that you can’t win debates with your mother,” Dad chuckles. 

“Ronald,” she says scathingly, playfully glaring at him. “Just go home so I can take the girls out for a day of shopping.”

 

“So, which top looks better?” I ask, alternating holding two over my chest. Amber squints her eyes and cocks her head, considering. 

“Let me see!” Holly calls out from across the shop. When planning the shopping trip, Holly stipulated that she must be present as a “style consultant.” She pokes her head out from behind a display. “No, no, sorry love. Green doesn’t go well with your hair. You look like Christmas,” she says, wrinkling her nose.

“Hols, it  _ is _ Christmas,” I remind her.

“Regardless, blue looks better. Now, Amber, show me what you’ve picked out.” She holds up a pair of jeans, almost identical to the ones she’s wearing, sans holes of course, and a simple navy blue jumper.

“I’m not really good at the whole… ‘girl’s day shopping’ thing,” she squirms awkwardly.

“That’s why I’m here,” Holly says, patting her arm reassuringly. “Now, let’s start by finding an outfit for Christmas. What do you think, Rose? A skirt or dress?”

“Skirt, most definitely,” I tell her. After almost half an hour of searching the racks, and arguing with Amber, who  _ insisted _ that it was too nice and too expensive, we finally came up with two good outfits: one for Christmas with the Weasleys and another for Christmas with the Grangers. For another hour, we fight to get her another few casual outfits, enough to last her the two weeks of Christmas break and then some.

“Really, Mrs. Weasley, it’s unnecessary. This is so nice of you. I- I can’t make this up to you,” she stammers as Mum pays the cashier.

“Nonsense, dear. It’s Christmas! And besides, you did save my daughter and countless others. Now, grab a bag and hurry out to the car.” Being the smart girl that she is, Amber has already figured out that one does not argue with Hermione Granger-Weasley.

“Now what?” Amber asks, loading the bags into the boot.

“Now, we go out and grab a bite. Leaky Cauldron, anyone?” I suggest.

“No,” Mum says, walking briskly out to the car. “No, now we go home. Get in the car. Now,” she adds when we hesitate.

“What’s happened?” I ask her. She doesn’t answer for another five minutes, once we’ve started driving. 

“He was here,” she says tersely, looking over her shoulder. “Your stalker. He left a letter with the store worker, told him to give it to you when I wasn’t looking, but the man didn’t feel right about it, so he gave it to me. How did the aurors not even see him? Damnit,” she swears loudly as another driver cuts her off.

“How did we not even see the aurors?” Holly asks me. 

“It’s what they’re trained for, Holly. They blend in. It’s the only way I could get them to let us go out. We were meant to go straight to the safe house. Ugh, we don’t have time to drive. We’ll apparate. Holly, you passed your test, yes?”

“No, Mrs. Weasley. My test is scheduled for after break,” Holly says quietly. “I haven’t been doing well in practice lessons, so I wanted some extra time to practice.” My mum swears again under her breath.

“I can’t Side-Along all of you. Maybe two, but not all three. I’m going to pull over. Hopefully the aurors will follow.” She pulls off on a side street and puts her hazard lights on, the bright orange blinkers illuminating the rain-soaked pavement in front of us. After a moment, a small red Nissan pulls over behind us, and Aurors Smith and Jones step out.

“Problem?” Auror Smith asks.

“He was there. Delivered a letter via the cashier.” Auror Smith swore. “I can’t apparate them all to the safe house. Please, can you take one of them?” They put their heads together, conversing quietly.

“Auror Jones will take two of the girls. Mrs. Weasley will take the third. I’ll wait here for back-up and go investigate the store,” Auror Smith says. 

“Mum, take Holly,” I ask, watching Amber’s knuckles turn white. She’s gripping the door handle so hard and there’s a fine layer of sweat on her upper lip.

“Jones, can you get the bags out the boot for us? Here, Rose, put them in my beaded bag,” she says, shoving all four bags into the tiny purse. “Everyone out. Anyone watching?” she asks quietly.

“Doesn’t matter. The ministry will deal with it. Just get them to the safe house,” Auror Jones says firmly. I watch Holly grab my mum’s arm, turn on the spot and vanish. Amber is still wringing her hands, looking as if she’s seen a ghost.

“Amber, come on. Take my hand, Amber,” I coax her gently. “Please, come on, we have to get going.” She doesn’t even blink. Sighing, Auror Jones grabs our arms and turns on the spot, pulling us into the dark.


	24. Welcome to the Burrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Amber, is she alright? Auror Jones, what happened?” Holly yelled. When I turned to look, I found Amber on the ground, unconscious. Her hair is splayed out around her, like a halo on the grass, a dark, curly halo. Would that be a shadow?  
> “She probably held her breath as they apparated, Holly. Give her space, dear. Ennervate,” Mum said calmly. Amber took a deep breath and opened her eyes, blinking rapidly.

**Chapter 24: Welcome to the Burrow**

  
  


“Amber, is she alright? Auror Jones, what happened?” Holly yelled. When I turned to look, I found Amber on the ground, unconscious. Her hair is splayed out around her, like a halo on the grass, a dark, curly halo. Would that be a shadow?

“She probably held her breath as they apparated, Holly. Give her space, dear.  _ Ennervate _ ,” Mum said calmly. Amber took a deep breath and opened her eyes, blinking rapidly.

“What, where am I?” she asks breathily, taking shallow breaths. She raises herself up, the shadow/halo disappearing as she looks around, perplexed. Realizing that I have done little to figure out where we are, I look around, and see the rolling hills that surround the Burrow.

“ _ This _ is the safe house?” I ask, grinning.

“Nowhere safer in all the world,” Mum grins. “Now, come on. Let’s get you guys inside the wards. I’d prefer he not appear out of nowhere, seeing as he has a habit of doing that.” I pick up the bags from Amber and run towards the Burrow.

“Wait, where is it?” Amber asks, her voice cracking in panic. I grind to a halt and turn to look at her, figure if she’s joking. I mean, how in the world can you miss a large, crooked, eight-or-so story house that’s only staying up by magic and the will of God?

“Right, the  _ Fidelius _ charm. Damn. Rose, tell her about the Burrow,” she says harriedly.

“I’m Secret Keeper?” I asked, tilting my head.

“ _ Yes,  _ Rose. Remember? We put up the charm  _ ages _ ago! It was right after you got the first letter. Arthur was Secret Keeper. Didn’t we tell you? We even went to the trouble of informing everyone by mail. Your granddad was the original Secret Keeper, then got Flitwick to change it to you! Doesn’t matter, just tell her, quickly, please,” she snapped.

“Amber, I invite you to the Burrow. It’s the home of my grandparents, Molly and Arthur Weasley. It’s located on the outskirts of Ottery St. Catchpole, in Devon, England. It’s hidden among the hills from all Muggles and most in the Wizarding community. Amber Wells, welcome to the Burrow.” As I spoke, I watched the range of emotions on her face. It started with blank, neutrality, followed quickly by confusion, then interest, then wonder, then utter elation.

“It’s brilliant,” she says. “I was never with him when he came here. He said it was a sacred place and made me stay in the den when he wanted to come here.”

“Fascinating, now let’s get inside the wards, please. It’s just inside the gate. Hurry along,” Auror Jones insists, pushing us along. When we pass through the gate, it feels noticeably warmer, though I know it isn’t logical. The  _ Fidelius _ charm does nothing to alter temperature, only alter perceptions and hide locations.

“Rose, Holly, it’s been too long!” Nana says, slamming the back door open. She hustles herself over to us, squeezing me thoroughly, planting a large, wet kiss on my cheek, and gives Holly the same. “Hermione, dear, Ron is in the kitchen waiting for you. And, uh, who is this?” she asks, looking pointedly at Amber.

“Nana, this is my friend Amber. She’s er… She had no other place to go and she and I’ve become close recently.” Nana smiles at her and goes in for a hug, squeezing tightly, but sparing her the cheek-kiss. 

“Are you hungry, dear? You must be, such a skinny child. Are they feeding you at that school?” she asks warmly. “Oh, look at me! Blabbing up a storm out here in the cold while the poor child shivers. Come in, eat something!” Amber nods, and I just now notice her teeth chattering gently.

The kitchen of the Burrow is as frenetic as usual: self-stirring pots boiling on the stove, dishes washing themselves, piles of paper towering over all corners of the room, and books, teetering on the edge of every corner table, underneath every unbalanced table leg. Dad is sitting at the table, the newspaper in one hand and a fork in the other, his cheeks stuffed to the brim with chicken.

“Sit, sit! I have mashed potatoes and string beans and carrots, roast chicken, and rice casserole. Who’s hungry?” Nana asked. Before anyone could even respond, she waves her wand and the chairs knock our legs out from beneath us, forcing us to sit at the table. She waves her wand, piling food on five mismatched plates that could fit perfectly in the holes of a Quidditch goal post.

“Please, Mrs. Weasley, I’m not that hungry. It’s really okay,” Amber insists. As Nana starts to pile the chicken on her plate, Amber’s mouth waters.

“Give it up, Amber. Nana feeds everyone more than they need. It’s all good food, so just go ahead and shovel it in, but save room for dessert,” Holly advises her.

“Such a sweet girl,” Nana smiles, pinching Holly’s cheek. Holly and Scorp have been coming here for visits with me every summer, and holiday break for years, and have thus earned the right to call my grandparents “Nana” and “Granddad.” Amber will probably start calling her that soon enough; it’s hard not to, seeing as my Nana is the epitome of “cute old grandmother.” With her short, plump body, the gray streaks in her short, fluffy hairdo, the constant smile, the willingness and proclivity to feed anyone and everyone, it’s no surprise she’s the perfect Nan.

“Well, I can’t stay for dinner, Mrs. Weasley. I was only here to escort them to safety. I have to go back and help my partner search. And I do believe Mrs. Granger-Weasley would like her car back,” Auror Jones says, smiling kindly.

“Oh, just a snack? Perhaps something to take with you?” she offers.

“No, no, I really do have to get going. Perhaps next time. Auror Weasley, I do believe you and your wife can relay the instructions to the children?” Dad nods, his mouth too full of food to speak. Auror Jones nods once and turns on her heel, walking right back out the door. Mum watches her out the window, not turning her head until she’s Apparated and is gone.

“Instructions?” I ask, my voice muffled as a drop of potatoes falls back onto my plate. Grimacing, I vanish it away.

“Rose, no magic outside school,” Mum says sharply. “And don’t talk with your mouth full.”

Swallowing, I say, “Sorry, mum. What instructions?”

“More like rules for the safe house,” Mum says, considerably softer. “We put a lot of effort into making this house safe, so you must keep to these rules.” She pauses, and the only sound is the rhythmic scratch of the brushes magically scrubbing the dishes.

“First, you must stay at the Burrow. The  _ Fidelius _ charm will protect you, so long as you stay on the property. You can take out the brooms, but must stay within the confines of the property.”

“Mrs. Weasley, will I be able to go home for Christmas?” Holly asks. I can’t puzzle out her expression: is she hopeful or worried? Which answer is she hoping for?

“Holly, we can’t protect you at your parents’ house. He knows you know where Rose is, and he knows Rose would do anything for you. It’s likely he’ll try to use you to get to her, and we can’t put you in danger like that. I mean, we’re not forcing you to stay here, but your parents are okay with you staying here, seeing as its for your safety. But,” Mum takes a deep breath. “You can go home if you like, against all of our advice, but I can’t forcibly stop you.” It clearly pained her to say this, to give permission for Holly to put herself in danger.

“No, I’ll stay. I couldn’t put my parents in danger like that. He wouldn’t go after them to get to me to get to Rose, would he?” Holly is always willing to think three steps ahead. I told her she’d make a brilliant chess player, but she’s too impatient for that.

“No, that’s too complex and complicated. I think he’d be more direct, which is why we contacted Scorpius. Told him to lay low, helped Draco put some better wards on the place,” Mum says, daintily cutting a piece of chicken. Amber, meanwhile, is taking more chicken from the plate, cutting it clean to the bone.

“Can I get you something else, dear? Perhaps some of my roast beef sandwiches,” Nana whispers. Amber nods bashfully.

“Second rule,” Mum continues, “is about communication to the outside world. No letters. No using anyone’s owl. If he sees your owl leaving, he’ll send his owl in and we don’t want any more letters. If you  _ must _ communicate, use the floo. The third and final rule is the most important. You  _ must _ clear all movements with me, or your father. If you’re going inside, we have to know. If you’ll be up in your room, we have to know.”

“Yes, it does sound like some freaky dictatorship or the gestapo or something, but it is for your own safety,” Dad adds.

“The  _ gestapo _ , Dad?” I laugh. 

“Just because I’m not as brilliant as your mother,” he says, gesticulating with his fork, “does not mean I know nothing.”

“Oh, no one ever suggested that, Ronald,” Mum laughs, starting to wash her plate. As she’s turned, looking out the window, Dad rolls his eyes and mutters something, but Mum doesn’t seem to notice.

“So basically, we let you know when we want to do something. You tell us if it infringes on one of your rules. That’s it,” I summarize.

“Well, if we’re all done, I think I’m going up to our room, to put some stuff down and whatnot,” Holly says, standing. 

“Oh, dear, I’ve set your school things up in Fr-, in the twin’s old room. More space for the three of you,” Nana says, choking up as she still refers to the room as my late Uncle Fred’s. Despite how many years its been, everyone still gets choked up mentioning his name. 

“Amber, should we, er, show you the room? That is, if you’re done,” I suggest after a few moments of painfully loaded silence. Amber grabs her sandwich and we traipse up the stairs. Though infinitely numerous people have stayed in the Burrow since Uncle Fred’s death, I still feel like this room has been left untouched, a perfect memory of Uncle Fred. 

A pile of boxes sits in the corner, a fine layer of dust covering them. The first time we stayed here as kids, Hugo and I opened the boxes and found a bunch of old prototypes from Uncle George’s shop. We thought it was a great find, a bunch of free samples for us to take home! Mum nearly had a fit when she found us trying to stuff them in our pockets. She made us put everything back exactly as we had found it, told us that every kid has gone in there, found the joke products and tried to take them. But all the older Weasleys have decided that every single thing in those boxes should be left there, as a tribute to Uncle Fred. These were his ideas, his and Uncle George’s, and they should remain as a memory. At least, that’s what Dad says.

“Hey, what’s in these boxes?” Amber asks, her mouth full. She finishes the last bite of her sandwich and reaches over to open the top box.

“Be careful!” Holly warns. “It’s stuff from her uncle’s joke shop, but old prototypes from like 25 years ago. They were never perfected or anything, so just be careful what you touch,” she adds, rubbing the crook of her right arm, a memory of the first time Holly explored the boxes with me.

“Yeah, one time Holly accidentally grabbed something wrong and it punched her,” I laughed.

“Don’t laugh, it was a traumatic experience! That bruise wouldn’t go away, no matter what spell I used on it, and it  _ hurt _ ,” she moaned.

“How did it come off?” Amber gasped, now eyeing the boxes much more warily, though she hasn’t taken a cautionary step back, like Scorpius did when we told him the story.

“Essence of dittany,” I told her. “Go on, explore a little.” She held up a few orange and purple sweets, sniffing them carefully. “Puking pastilles. Eat the orange side, you’ll be sick. Eat the purple side, you’ll stop. Helps you get out of classes,” I explain.

“All this stuff, it’s fantastic. Where can I get more?” she asks, sifting through the box. 

“My uncle’s shop in Diagon Alley,” I reply, flopping back onto the bottom bunk. Holly lays down next to me, her hair flopping into my face. As we shove each other, laughing and jabbing each other in the stomachs, Amber continues to pilfer through the boxes.

“This is brilliant. What even is all this stuff? It’s like I’ve stumbled into- ahh!” she shrieks. She pulls her head out of the box, clutching the little brass telescope, her eye surrounded by a big, red blob. As she looks at us, we watch it change color, becoming a myriad of purples, blues, and ugly, harsh reds.

“Welcome to the Weasley household,” I tell her somberly. She just looks from Holly to me for a moment, before we all dissolve into laughter, just like some moment on one of Grandma Granger’s muggle sit-coms.


	25. A Very Weasley Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The living room is dominated by a ten-foot tall Christmas tree, decorated with all sorts of baubles and twinkling decorations. Someone had even enchanted snow to perpetually fall on the tree, decorating the branches but never hitting the floor. Beneath the tree sit a mound of presents decorated in all sorts of different wrapping paper. Hugo, ever the patient child, starts distributing presents so that everyone can begin.

**Chapter 25: A Very Weasley Christmas**

  
  


“Rose,” Hugo shouts. Peeking my eyes, open, I find him standing at the door to my room in his pyjamas. “Presents!” Holly squeals and shoots out of the bottom bunk we had been sharing, chasing Hugo down the stairs. It’s physically impossible to fall back asleep once you’ve been used as a springboard, so I stand too. Amber hesitantly climbs off of the top bunk, biting her lip.

“Come on, it’ll be fun,” I promise. She relents, allowing me to pull her down the stairs. The living room is dominated by a ten-foot tall Christmas tree, decorated with all sorts of baubles and twinkling decorations. Someone had even enchanted snow to perpetually fall on the tree, decorating the branches but never hitting the floor. Beneath the tree sit a mound of presents decorated in all sorts of different wrapping paper. Hugo, ever the patient child, starts distributing presents so that everyone can begin.

“Amazing, mum! Thanks for the Keeper gloves!” Hugo shouts, always the first to tear into his gifts. Not that I’m much better, as I’ve already ripped through the wrapping paper on Mum and Dad’s present. In the box, I find a small, golden spinning top.

“A sneakoscope,” Dad explains. “Makes a really nasty noise when dark stuff is near. Keep it with you and you’ll always know when danger’s near.”

“Brilliant,” I thanked them. From Nana, I got the typical Weasley sweater, this year’s a rich royal blue with a silver quill on it.

“For those lovely poems and letters you always send us. Our little author,” Granddad said lovingly. Nan had even gotten busy, making sweaters for Amber and Holly as well. Of course, this isn’t the first of Holly’s Weasley sweaters, but it is the nicest. It’s a rich emerald green, contrasting lovely with her skin tone, with a calico cat on it. Amber’s is bright red with a large, white “A” on it. I’m reminded of a muggle book I once read called the  _ Scarlet Letter _ , though I’m sure that isn’t what Nan intended to reference. Amber doesn’t recognize the reference, and stumbles over her words trying to express thanks.

“I, this is- I just, and I didn’t get you anything!” she stutters tearfully.

“Oh, that isn’t why we do it, love. We love having guests,” Nan says, patting her shoulder. “Now, you all stay in here and keep going. I have to start preparing lunch.” She stands up and waddles into the kitchen, leaving a dumbstruck Amber behind.

“I don’t have any money. I wanted to get you gifts. I had the best presents planned out.” Mum tries to stop Amber, tell her it isn’t necessary, but Amber forges on. “For Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, I would have written a book all about the pack, so that you could catch him. For Holly, there’s a beautiful necklace in a village where we apparate before going to the den. I wanted to get that for you. For Rose, I would have gotten you that revised copy of  _ Hogwarts: A History _ and a new peacock feather quill. I just, I couldn’t,” she finishes quietly.

“Amber,” I say hesitantly. “I got you a present.” Reaching behind me, I produce the gift. “It’s a journal. It’s specially made so that no one else can see what you’re writing. No matter what ink or quill you use, you’re the only one who can see it. You just write your name at the top of the page, and you’re the only one who can see it.” Amber just stares at the black leatherbound notebook. Abruptly she throws herself towards me, wrapping her arms tightly around me. 

“Thank you,” is all she manages to say, and it’s all she needs to say.

 

“Now, Amber, there are lots of things you need to understand about Christmas with the extended Weasley family,” I warn her somberly. She nods, followed by a protest from Holly, who was working very hard to tame her hair. “First, is that there will be a lot of people, and a lot of noise. It will be best for you to stick with Holly and/or me at all times.”

“All of her cousins and aunts, uncles, grandparents, everyone will be there. It’s an overwhelming amount of people, and you don’t know any of them. Of course, they’re all nice, and none of them will stone you or anything, but large quantities of tall people with fiery tempers can be rather intimidating,” Holly adds.

“Particularly when those tall, fiery-tempered people are drunk. That’s my second tip to you: by the end of the dinner, half of my family will be drunk. If you’re lucky, you’ll get to see my mother drunk. I’ve only ever seen it twice in my lifetime but it is a sight to behold.”

“It happened once at Teddy and Vic’s wedding, a few years ago. I was there, and it was one of the first times I spent a lot of time with Rose’s mum. It was terrifying,” Holly interjects, giggling. She finishes smoothing Amber’s hair, pulling it back elegantly and leaving just a few curled strands framing her face.

“The other time was when we were at my parents’ anniversary party. I was a lot younger, so it was really weird for me. Anyways, the next thing you need to know is that my Uncle George and his kids are always, always,  _ always _ late for lunch. Nana will tell everyone to show up at noon. My Uncle Percy will arrive at precisely noon, and the rest of the family members will filter in over the next thirty minutes, but Uncle George will show up around two hours later. No matter what, he will be late.”

“I suggest you eat a snack, because Nana won’t let anyone eat until everyone has arrived. And she likely will get angry, yell and threaten to disinherit George if he’s late again. But don’t be afraid of her, because she is literally the sweetest old woman… er, most of the time,” she amends. 

“So, it’ll be crowded, loud, you stick with me or Holly, my family likes to get drunk, and Uncle George will be late so eat a snack before. Did I miss anything, Hols?” I start to wave my wand, delicately curling my hair as I try to think of anything else she should know.

“I don’t know, perhaps that Percy might interrogate her a bit? He’s a bit, er, well he’s kind of really intense. He’ll probably ask how you’re preparing for your O.W.L.s and your career plans after Hogwart and stuff.”

“I’m a first year,” Amber reminds us.

“Percy’s daughters have been taking practice exams for years. They’re only fourth years,” I offer. “Oh! Nana will be a wreck since she’s been spending all last night and this morning cooking. My suggestion is to stay out of the kitchen for a while. At noon we can go down, after having a snack, and try to fend off Uncle Percy’s questions. Now, put your clothes on so we can get going on your makeup.”

 

“Honestly, mum, George really needs to learn to be on time. He’s inconveniencing everyone else in the family,” Percy drones. “If every other member of the family can learn to be on time, I don’t understand why he can’t.”

“Percy, enough. He’ll come when he always comes. I don’t understand why you insist on coming right at noon when we all know that no one eats until after two,” Bill laughs, clapping him on the shoulder. 

“Amber, come on, they’ll argue like this for at least another ten minutes. I want to see if I can find my cousin Teddy and his kids,” I whisper, pulling her away. Luckily, Percy got distracted by George’s tardiness before he settled into asking Amber about her personal life. 

Only half of the Weasleys are here, and already I’m worried about Amber’s safety. While Scorp, Holly and I seem to have drawn her out of her shell in the safety of Ravenclaw common room and the Room of Requirement, here she seems to have retracted. A few of my uncles have tried to draw her out, ask her about her classes, her friends, her family, but she always starts to squirm when they get around to family. After all, how should she answer? “Oh, yes, my family? Well, I presumably had parents at some point and they’re out there in the world, but I was kidnapped and held hostage by a mad werewolf and I don’t remember my parents.” Ah, I suppose it’s understandable why she might have retracted into her shell just a bit.

“Ah, Teddy! Good to see you, and you too Cecilie!” Uncle Harry shouts. I grab Holly and Amber by the hand and pull them through the crowd, looking for the front door. Of course, by the time we made our way through the relatives, fielding chipper greetings and shouting answers about how we’re doing, Teddy and his family had moved on to the living room. Cecilie shoots through crowds like a rocket, skimming under everyone’s legs, looking for anything fun. However, it is harder for a six foot tall man with hair that changes colour to hide.

“Teddy!” I shout, leaving Holly and Amber in my dust as I run to hug my favorite not-exactly-related-to relative. 

“Shhhh,” he whispers, turning to face me. It’s at this moment that I notice he’s holding a small, pink creature swaddled in a big yellow blanket. “If you wake this baby, Vic will find you and destroy you,” he says quietly, smiling. “He hasn’t slept in days and Vic is home taking a quick nap. She’ll be here before George is. Now, come meet my son.”

“Son? What’s his name?” I coo.

“Samuel. We named him Samuel Remus Lupin. But you’ll never guess what else,” he whispers excitedly. I don’t even bother trying to guess, instead just looking at the baby as he talks. Babies are always cute, in my opinion, but there’s something about Sam. Perhaps it’s the little red tuft of hair or how his chubby, blob-like cheeks are as red as the fire truck on his pyjamas, or maybe it’s the way his fingers curl around my pinky. Or maybe it’s that little tuft of black hair- wait,  _ black _ hair?

“He’s a metamorphmagus.”

“His hair changes color the most when he sleeps. It’s usually his eyes when he’s awake. Little freaky, gotta tell you. Imagine trying to feed a child who’s having a tantrum when suddenly, his eyes turn black. Oh, damn.” As Teddy talks, Sam starts to squirm, blinking his eyes slowly, still not releasing my pinky.

“Let me try,” I offer. “Come on, go get a drink or something. I’ll sit on the couch, and if he won’t stop screaming, I’ll put a silencing charm on him.” Teddy gives me a half-smile, carefully transferring the baby into my arms.

“I’ll be back in about three firewhiskeys,” he promises.

“Told you,” I say pointedly to Amber. Before she can respond, Sam starts to whimper, a pitiful little sound. “Hey now, what’s that all about? If you keep this up, I’ll be offended mister.”

“He’s probably too warm in here. Give me the blanket,” Amber commands, coming over to loosen the cocoon. “Unzip his outfit, just a bit. Warm babies get fussy, and those fluffy, adorable zip-up pyjama outfits are known for being warm.” After a few moments, he stops fussing, instead just gazing up at me. 

“Look at that,” I whisper. “Ladies and gentlemen, I think we have a baby whisperer.”

“Oh, God, he’s so cute. Just look at him,” Holly coos. Luckily, we get another hour of cooing over the baby, and it isn’t until Uncle George and Aunt Angelina finally arrive that we give Sam back to Teddy.

“Oh, wow, look at those eyes. Amber, he seems to have taken to you,” Teddy says proudly to a fiercely blushing Amber. While we cooed over him, he had changed his eye color and hair color to match Amber.

“George, I just think that you should be teaching your children proper manners, and one such manner is punctuality! My girls have learned that it is polite to be punctual, a lesson learned from my example-”

“Perce, give it a rest. I try my best, I do. Maybe you should show up a bit later, then you won’t be stuck waiting so long,” George sighs. “I’m really sorry, Mum. You know how the holidays can get,” he apologizes quieter. Nana just looks at him for a moment before hugging him. 

“I know,” she says into his shoulder. Mum once told me that George is always late because he’s still reeling from my Uncle Fred’s death. Apparently, holidays are the hardest times for anyone who has lost someone. It’s got to be doubly hard when you lose a twin, so I guess I can’t really fault Uncle George too much for being late.

 

“So, Amber, is it? How did you, like, meet Rose, ya know?” Dom asks drunkenly. Despite her parent’s protests, Dom insisted that she be allowed to drink what she likes at family functions and has packed away at least five or six glasses, that  _ I’ve  _ seen at least.

“Um, the, er, Ravenclaw common room,” Amber responds awkwardly. Dom is sitting next to her and she can be a bit, er,  _ touchy-feely _ when she’s had a few. Holly and I snicker when Amber visibly wrinkles her nose after Dom slings her arm across her shoulder. I suppose with a werewolf super-nose, alcohol breath is much, much more annoying.

“Oh, yeah, I s’pose I should have known that, right? So- hic- you’re all- hic- smart, yeah? A Ravenclaw, so you’ve got to be!” Dom starts to hiccup now. “Oh, Rosie’s our only Ravenclaw. He-he, she’s the only smart one, I guess. Except- hic- her mum.”

“Dominique, I think you ought to go lay off the firewhiskey,” Victoire says sternly, holding Cecilie on her lap. Sam had long since fallen asleep and Teddy put him down in his travel crib for his nap.

“Oh Vic, ever since you had that kid you’ve- hic- become a total killjoy! You used to- hic- be the  _ fun _ one! Remember that party when I was a first- hic- year? You got  _ so _ drunk,” she laughs. “And then- hic- that summer before I went into fourth year? Haha- hic- isn’t that where you and Teddy-”

“Dominique Weasley, get over here,” Uncle Bill says threateningly. Amber seems glad to help Dom to her feet- and off her shoulder. There’s an awkward moment where we all try to pretend we can’t hear them arguing in the next room, but no amount of chit-chat could drown out the sound of Dom screaming, “Dad, I’m an  _ adult _ ! And you have got to- hic- stop treating me like a child!”

“So,” Percy booms. “Should we start on dessert? We can’t stay much longer. Have to get the girls home before bedtime.” At the same time, Molly and Lucy chime, “Dad!”

“We’re not kids anymore,” Molly whines.

“We don’t need a bedtime,” Lucy adds.

“Certainly don’t need to parade that fact around for everyone,” Molly mutters mutinously.

“Children need structure,” Percy asserts. 

“Girls, don’t argue at dinner,” Audrey moans.

“Dessert would be lovely,” I shout, just as Uncle Bill yells, “I don’t  _ bloody care _ if you’re seventeen. When I tell you to go to your room, you  _ go! _ ” 

“Mummy, what did you and Daddy do at that party?” Cecilie asks.

“Er, we made some lovely dessert. Of course, not as good as Great-Nana’s dessert. Shall we have some?” Vic says awkwardly.

“Sounds lovely,” Granddad says, waving his wand and levitating a lovely pudding. 

“Don’t talk to me like that,” Bill roars. “Don’t walk away from me like that!” Dom stomps through the dining room, drunkenly tripping over everything. As she passes by Vic, she plants a sloppy kiss on the top of her sister’s head.

“Sorry I yelled that you’re not fun. Love you,” she mumbles, adding a kiss on Cecilie’s head, too. 

“Dominique,” BIll roars, following closely behind her. She doesn’t say anything, just grabs a handful of floo powder and throws it in the fire, disappearing in a puff of green.

“Come sit,  _ mon amour _ ,” Fleur says, grabbing Bill’s hand.

“Every year,” James mutters into Amber’s ear.

“Merry Christmas, love the Weasleys,” Fred adds with a chuckle.


	26. Pack Life

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Where should I even start?” she asks, standing up to smooth her pyjamas. I could have told her it was pointless; sleeping in clothes tends to wrinkle them beyond the repair a hand can fix.  
> “Cubs,” Holly moans. “Pack. Den.”  
> “Thank you for that brief synopsis of our program today, Hols. Drink some coffee and hush up,” I grin. Mum obliges, pouring a fresh cup for her.  
> “No, no, good place to start,” Amber mumbles to herself.

**Chapter 26: Pack Life**

  
  


“Bring him by again sometime, Teddy?” I plead as I hand Sam back to him. As he’s nodding, Amber rushes forward to say her own goodbyes. As soon as Sam catches her eye, his eyes change color, matching hers. He grins his silly, toothless smile at her and grabs her pinky. She kisses his forehead and hugs Teddy.

“Of course, Rose. See you, girls,” he says, stepping into the floo.

“Wow, Amber. Sam took a liking to you,” Holly says appreciatively. 

“What, you think I’ve never seen a cub before? We’ve plenty of them at the den, and I usually watched over them,” Amber snorted.

“Cub?” I asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, er, yeah, a baby. It’s what the pack calls them.”

“Ah, yes, of course,” I said. We sat there for a moment, sipping our hot cocoa and listening to Celestina Warbeck croon. After Amber’s seventh yawn, Mum stands up.

“Alright, off to bed. All of you,” she says, nudging Hugo with her foot. He had fallen asleep nearly an hour ago, after the Potters had left, the last cousins besides Teddy.

“Mmmm, need sleep,” Holly groans, flopping on the bottom bunk, her limbs splayed out over the entire surface of the bed. Even as a dog, there’s nowhere I could comfortably fit.

“Hey, Amber? Mind if I share the top bunk with you? Holly’s taken up the entire thing,” I smirk. 

“Yeah, sure,” she says, shifting over. She pushes herself up against the wall, trying to take up as little space as possible. Taking pity on her, I shift and curl up at her feet so that she has more room.

“You know,” she says hesitantly, “he takes your form as a sign. You’re a dog, similar to a wolf. He thinks it’s a sign.” I whimper, and the scent of regret fills the air as she wishes to take back her words. She just makes a soothing sound, scratching me just between my ears. It feels so good, as she must know. I don’t know how long we sit like that, me as a dog and her as a human, scratching behind my ears.

 

At some point we must have fallen asleep, because when I wake up, sunlight streams through the window. The scent of bacon frying hits my nostrils, jump-starting my mind. I shoot out of bed, realizing belatedly that I’m running down the stairs on four legs instead of two.

“Oh, Rose!” Amber mutters. I bark happily at her, two landings down. Holly’s groans join the mix as I make my way down into the kitchen. On the landing just before, I shift back, and the smell of bacon lessens slightly.

“Rosie!” Cecilie shouts, throwing herself into my arms. “I missed you!”

“You saw her just last night, love,” Vic reminded her.

“Oh, but Mummy, she’s to play with my new toys with me!” she whines.

“No, no, love. Remember? We’re going to the spa today, just Mum and Cecilie! Daddy’s staying at home with baby Sammy. We just came in to say bye to Nana and Granddad. Come on, now. Kiss Nana goodbye,” Vic says, nudging her towards Nana.

“Bye Nana. Be nice to my baby,” Cecilie says very seriously. After a few more rounds of goodbyes, she and Vic apparate out of there.

“Don’t you love when older siblings call their younger siblings ‘my baby,’” Mum remarks, sipping her coffee.

“Oh, Ron did that all the time with Ginny,” Granddad adds. “None of the other boys could be bothered with their brothers, but Ginny was everyone’s baby.”

“Rose,” Holly groaned, finally thumping down the stairs. Her eyes don’t even open before she slumps down at the kitchen table, putting her head down.

“Took quite a bit to get her out of bed,” Amber calls out, bounding down the stairs. Just as she comes down, she knocks into Teddy. Always a gentleman, Teddy steadies her on her feet before releasing a now beet-red Amber.

“Good on you, Ted,” I congratulate him. “Sweeping ladies off their feet since 1998.”

“Sorry about that. Didn’t rattle baby Sam, did I?” Amber asks awkwardly. Noticing that Teddy isn’t holding him, she adds, “Oh, where is the little guy?”

“Just put him down.” At that instant, a wailing noise is emitted from the living room. “Be right-”

“Oh, no, let me get him!” Amber offers, running off to get him. Almost as soon as she disappears from sight, the wailing stops. 

“She’s good at that,” Granddad whispers. Peering into the living room, I nearly collide heads with Amber as she brings Sam back in, cradling him and mumbling softly.

“Lots of practice, sir,” she replies.

“Official pack cub-sitter, over here,” Holly adds, causing Amber to flush even deeper. Amusingly, Sam’s face changes to match her blush.

“So, what brings you here today Ted?” I ask, hoping to deflect attention from Amber. As much as she’s come out of her shell, she still gets flustered with any amount of attention.

“Oh, well, Vic was getting a bit overwhelmed and Cecilie was feeling neglected since we were spending so much time with the new baby. We decided it would be good for them to get out together, have a girl’s day, or whatever. But, I get lonely, and I know Rose and her friends wanted to see the baby again. Plus, well, I wanted to talk to Amber about, well, the pack,” he finishes, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly.

“Um, well, it’s sort of a long story. Hard to explain,” she mumbles. As she shifts from foot to foot, Sam starts to fuss. She tries shifting his position but as she’s moving him, he spits up on her shoulder. Before she can even wrinkle her nose, Teddy vanishes the mess away.

“I’ll take him while you talk,” I offer, somewhat selfishly. Having something to do with her hands would probably help her, but he’s just so  _ cute _ and I can’t help but want to hold him. She looks reluctant to give him up and I feel another pang of guilt, but when Sam settles so happily onto my lap, gurgling and cooing, I shove it to the back of my mind.

“Where should I even start?” she asks, standing up to smooth her pyjamas. I could have told her it was pointless; sleeping in clothes tends to wrinkle them beyond the repair a hand can fix.

“Cubs,” Holly moans. “Pack. Den.”

“Thank you for that brief synopsis of our program today, Hols. Drink some coffee and hush up,” I grin. Mum obliges, pouring a fresh cup for her.

“No, no, good place to start,” Amber mumbles to herself. To us, she adds, “I should start with the titles and everything. Yeah, the titles and stuff. Well, some of it is sort of self-explanatory. Cubs are what we call the little kids, those who haven’t matured yet, or even those who are recently bitten. Technically speaking, they can still refer to me as a cub since I haven’t, er,” she mumbled awkwardly. “Anyways, yeah kids are cubs. There’s also the pack hierarchy. Oh! The pack is like, the community as a whole, the group, cult, whatever you wanna call it. Anyways, the head of the pack is the Alpha, obviously. But, he’s away, er, rather often, so the pack has these, like, back-up leaders, you know? They’re, like, betas.”

“Do you know the names of the betas?” Mum asks, scribbling furiously. Teddy just waves his wand and his Dicta-quill appears, along with a roll of parchment. He sets it down on the table so that it can work its, well, magic. Sam starts to fuss, accusing me of not paying enough attention to him. I wave my wand, making colorful sparks rain down in front of him to keep him occupied.

“We don’t know their full names, and it’s not even necessarily their real names. There’s two of them. We call them Beta Jacob and Beta Kessler. They’re in charge whenever the Alpha isn’t here. Then there’s the den, that’s where we live. It’s sort of like, like a compound? There’s this big building, huge, really, sort of like an old school or something. Big, stone, cement walls, lots of small rooms, some like dorm rooms. And, well, all the doors have locks and everything, but they lock from the outside. Only the Alpha and the Betas can unlock them, but the privileged don’t have to keep their doors locked.” When she pauses to take a breath, Mum takes this as an opportunity to pepper her with questions.

“Privileged? Where are they in the pack hierarchy? Are you a privileged person in the pack?”

“Privileged are like, er, the elite. They’re below the Betas. They have to earn their privileges by pleasing the Betas and the Alpha.” Amber stops and fiddles with Sam, as if trying to ignore us all, change the subject.

“How do they earn their privileges?” Mum asks. God, her law enforcement skills really kick in at the worst times.

“Maybe we could relax with the cross-examination, mum?” I hissed through my teeth.

“What do they do to earn their privileges,” Mum asks again, completely ignoring me.

“You have to understand that not all werewolves fit the stereotype. Not all members of the Blood Cub pack fit the stereotype. They’re not all angry and evil and spiteful sociopaths. They don’t all revel in the pain of others, and they don’t all enjoy causing pain,” she says softly, her voice breaking.

“We know,” Teddy assures her, “but there are some like that in every faction of life: werewolf, wizard, muggle, elf, goblin, dragon, you name it. What does this have to do with earning privileges?” She takes a deep, shaking breath.

“Privileges are earned by fitting that stereotype. The way our pack runs is like, well, like an actual wolf pack. Everything is run based on force and pride and violence. You want breakfast? You fight to earn it. You accidentally bump into someone passing by in the hall? You better challenge them in order to defend your pride. You want to earn privileges? You  _ beat- _ ” she pauses, takes another deep, heaving breath. “You  _ beat _ the  _ cubs _ to try to train them in the ways of the wolf.” No one says anything for a long time. The only sound is of Sam, who decides that now is the best moment for him to be hungry. Luckily, this gives Amber something to do with her hands, feeding Sam.

“Amber,” Holly says gently. No one had noticed, but after three coffees Holly becomes much more personable.

“Next question,” Amber says loudly, ignoring Holly.

“Explain to me a day in the life of the pack,” Mum says, after shaking her head, as if to clear her thoughts.

“I wake up in my room, check the door. It’s locked. I have to sit on the bed and wait. Eventually, I’ll hear one of the privileged walk down the hall. I knock on the door, ask to be let out. There’s someone else asking the same thing. The amount of difficulty you get before they let you out is based on who it is that walked by. Some try to hassle you, make you beg to be let out, or anything they can do to humiliate you and remind you that they are above you. Then, once you’ve their attention, they bring someone in for you to fight, a challenger.”

“Describe how a challenge works,” Teddy injects.

“Usually it’s like a sneak attack. Someone can come up behind you, and attack you. Then it’s sort of like a, uh, an anything-goes match. Punching, biting, kicking, hair-pulling, wrestling, anything that can incapacitate your attacker. The goal is to pin someone to their ground, put your teeth up against their neck. If you do that, you win. If you can’t, you lose. Challenges can happen at any time for cubs, can come from anyone with privileges. Now, if you lost, they might tell you that you put up a good fight and they can reinstate your breakfast.”

“After breakfast?” Mum prompts.

“I go to classes with the other cubs. One or two of the older wolves teaches everyone. We learn things, but a challenge can come at any time and to anyone. So then, we get lunch, and lunch is a popular time for challenges. Then we have free time, but I always have to go to the Alpha. He gives me tasks to do, to help him with stalking or whatever. Then there’s always the possibility that one of the Betas could give you an order. They can make you do anything they want, anytime they get bored. Beta Kessler gets bored a lot, so he likes to make people do degrading little things all the time.”

“What happens if you disobey an order?” Holly asks.

“Nobody with half a brain cell disobeys a direct order from the Betas or the Alpha. Consequences can be… hell, quite frankly. Sometimes they, er, set impossible tasks so that you have to fail and they get to punish you. It’s more, er, entertaining for them,” Amber says, clamming up awkwardly. Her words spark a memory in my mind, a memory of her rocking back and forth in her trunk reciting that she “doesn’t want another punishment.”

“What’s a typical punishment?” Mum asks. 

“Er, Mum, perhaps we could take a break from the cross-examination?” I suggested. Sammy started to fuss, so Teddy took him off my hands and into the living room.

“Well, the punishments vary based on whom the punisher is. Sometimes it’s a beating, sometimes it’s other, more, er, personal things.” Amber looks down at her hands, constantly wringing them. Suddenly, she gets this manic look in her eye, just before she screws them closed tight. Her face pinches up and her hands clench into fists, her knuckles turning white. Nobody knows what to say, until she starts shaking.

“Amber, Amber, honey snap out of it,” I tell her urgently, shaking her shoulder. She opens her eyes, but doesn’t seem to look at me, seeing something that isn’t there. After a few more minutes of us calling her name and shaking her, she seems to go back to normal, if a little more shaken.

“Amber, is everything alright?” Mum asks hesitantly.

“Yeah, yeah, I just have to- I have to go lay down,” Amber says, avoiding Mum’s gaze. She runs up the stairs and I catch her by the wrist when she reaches the first landing. “Please, I just want to lay down, Rose,” she begs, still looking at her feet.

“Lay down, but not in a trunk alright? Go lay down on a bed, but not in a crawlspace and the attic already has a ghoul. Please, stick to the bed,” I begged her. She nodded, still not looking at me. Taking that as a sign, I released her hand, letting her sprint up the stairs to hide from her own demons. If she had let me, I could have told her that running doesn’t work.

The demons always find you.


	27. Punishments

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Rose,” Amber whispers a few hours later. Holly had just gotten into the shower and Scorp was playing a chess tournament with my dad and Hugo.  
> “Mmm?” I mumbled, looking up from my book.  
> “I think I wanna talk about it now,” she says softly, biting her lip.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: child abuse, depictions of violence, and rape! Please, read carefully!

**Chapter 27: Punishments**

  
  


“Everything alright?” Teddy asks when I come back down the stairs as he’s rocking Sam in his car seat. Sam is currently fighting sleep; his eyes keep closing, but only for a moment before he opens them, blinking and looking around, determined to stay awake.

“Yeah, she just, er, our questions sort of upset her. She’s upstairs lying down, is all.” Mum stands and paces.

“I pushed her too hard. It’s my fault. I pushed her and now she’s up there panicking and afraid and it’s all my fault.” We tried to console her, but Mum wouldn’t have it. “I sensed her discomfort, but I still pushed her. It’s my fault,” she insisted.

“What did you ask her about?”

“Something about what kinds of punishments the Alpha and the Betas hand out. She started to talk about it then clammed up, had some weird flashback or attack or something,” Holly shrugged, discreetly looking towards the staircase.

“Those can be rough, particularly for someone so young,” Teddy murmured. We all agreed and sat around, waiting for someone to say something. Slowly, as no one does, we start to disperse among the house, looking for something new to do. No one tries to go upstairs.

 

“Mum,  _ please _ ,” I beg. “I know we can’t send a letter, but I  _ need _ to talk to Scorpius. I’m going insane! I just need something new to do, some new games and whatnot. I just, I know this goes against the rules but  _ please. _ Please, please, please, pl-”

“Rose,” Mum sighs, cutting me off. “If I say yes, will you stop?” I nod. “You can talk to him through the floo. You know what, just invite him over. Make it easier.” I run off and immediately stick my head into the fireplace- after throwing in floo powder and announcing “Malfoy Manor.”

“Mistress Weasley, is you needing of young Master Malfoy?” The Malfoy’s house elf Flitty stands in the middle of the formal living room, holding a mop that’s at least three times her height. She just started here last year, taking over after their last elf Winnowa got too old to clean and retired. As soon as I told her I needed Scorp, she disappeared, reappearing a few moments later with Scorp in tow. 

“What are you wearing?” I laughed. He shrugged, looking himself up and down. I’m not entirely sure what person would lay around in their bed, which his hair indicates he was doing, in black dress pants, an emerald green silk shirt and a black dress jacket.

“A simple t-shirt and pyjama pants is never good enough for Malfoy Manor, unless of course you’re asleep and no one can see you. Now, what do you want with me?”

“Come over,” I told him. He just looked at me for a moment before breaking into a grin.

“Flitty, can you get my trunk and some clothes for me? Not just my dress clothes, some jeans and sweaters and casual stuff? Send it over to the Burrow through the floo. Rose, clear the way,” he says quickly. I pull my head out of the fireplace and hurriedly roll over out of the way. Before I’ve even cleared the space in front of the fireplace, completely ignoring my mother’s questions, Scorpius falls out, kicking soot all over the floor. He apologizes, sweeps it back into the fireplace before he looks over at me.

“Oh, God, I missed you,” I groan. He leans over, grabs my forearm and yanks me up to my feet, immediately wrapping his arms around me in a bear-hug.

“It was only two days, not two decades,” Hugo mutters as he passes by. We both ignore him as Scorpius picks me up and spins around.

“Longest two days ever,” Scorpius agrees. “Malfoy Manor is boring all alone. Forgot about that. Where’s Hols? And Amber?” 

“Oh, right. Well, they’re upstairs. Holly’s trying to convince Amber to come out of the room. There was, er, a bit of an  _ incident _ earlier.” I fill him on the events from earlier. He takes my hand and starts running up the stairs, taking them two at a time. I follow behind him as quick as I can, bumping my shins on every step- I’m not cut out for jumping steps, being too short and all.

“Amber, can I at least come in and get my blanket? I’m freezing,” Holly moans. When she sees us, she smiles weakly.

“Amber, I’m coming in,” I tell her, pushing the door. It doesn’t open and I end up slamming my face into the wood.

“You think I didn’t try that? She’s blocked it with something.” Rolling my eyes, I flick my wand and attempt to move whatever’s blocking the door. I can hear something heavy scraping the floor and a startled whimper from Amber. Now that I can push open the door, I find her curled up in a ball on the bottom bunk of the bed, which seems to have been the object blocking the door. She’s pulled all the blankets and sheets off the top bunk and has enclosed herself in a cocoon of fabric.

“You told me to lay on the bed,” she says in a small voice. All I can see are her eyes, the rest of her face hidden in the fabric and clouded in shadow. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she informs us.

“Then don’t talk, listen,” Scorpius asserts. “I wasn’t here, but Rose told me what happened. Nobody is mad at you, nobody is making fun of you, or thinks you made a fool of yourself. Nobody is judging you. Nobody hates you because of this. We’re worried about you, and we want to make sure you’re okay.” He slowly starts to work the blankets off of her head, so that we can see her face. When it’s exposed, I can see the imprint where she’s been biting her lip, probably for the past few hours she’s been up here. There’s a small spot of dried blood from where she broke the skin. The iron-rich scent of the blood hits my nose; when she notices me cringing, she hurriedly wipes it off. She doesn’t say anything, doesn’t respond to Scorp. She just extricates herself from the cocoon and wraps her arms around his shoulders. He lifts her out and puts her on the ground. As soon as her feet hit the ground, she turns and walks out onto the landing, not saying a word.

“I’ve been standing there for an hour trying to do that. You come in for three minutes and she’s out,” Holly mumbles. “Figures.”

 

“Rose,” Amber whispers a few hours later. Holly had just gotten into the shower and Scorp was playing a chess tournament with my dad and Hugo.

“Mmm?” I mumbled, looking up from my book.

“I think I wanna talk about it now,” she says softly, biting her lip. I motioned with my head towards the landing, and we went up to our room. She sits on the bottom bed, and I conjure a chair up so that I can sit across from her. Once I’m comfortable in the chintz armchair, she starts to speak.

“Before I explain, you have to understand how it is in the pack; it thrives on isolation. We’re out in the middle of nowhere, and all we know is the pack. We go to school in the den, eat in the den, sleep in the den, socialize in the den. Nothing is outside, except when we’re wolves and even then we restrict ourselves to our territorial boundaries. And the loneliness is a crushing thing, and it’s scary, and it’s hard to remember that life shouldn’t be like this.

“When you’re in the den, it’s like being on an island, like we’re our own separate country. We don’t follow any laws except those passed down by the Alpha and the Betas. But the Betas, they like punishment. Think it’s entertaining. After all, with isolation comes boredom. So basically, they go around and they like to play with people. Beta Kessler is the worst about it, loves to play mind games with people.” She pauses to study a Puking Pastille, turning it over and over in her hands.

“Maybe,” I suggest gently, “Maybe it will help if you tell me about what you saw when you closed your eyes earlier, remember? That flashback? That might be a good place to start, if you want.” She nods and takes a deep breath.

“That was the first time Beta Kessler really used my punishment as entertainment. Before, when I was younger, he’d leave me alone, assign me bland punishments like quiet time in my room or lines. But one day, when I was eight, he sought me out. Told me to, to take my clothes off. We were in the middle of the dining hall and I was embarrassed, so I hesitated. That’s when he struck me.” She pauses, wringing her hands as she gazes out the window. After a moment, she turns back to me.

“I started crying, you know, because it hurt. He told me to stop that instant. But I couldn’t; it’s like, really hard to just stop crying at the drop of a hat when you’re hurt and scared and embarrassed. So I didn’t stop, so he hit me again. I cried harder, he told me to stop, but I couldn’t. He was smiling, like he was enjoying my struggle. Finally, he told me that if I couldn’t follow orders, I would have to follow him for… for a lesson. So I did, and I was still crying. He made me follow him down the corridors, past everyone I knew. Then he took me into his, in his bed chambers,” she sniffles, rocking back and forth ever-so-slightly. I wrap my Ravenclaw blanket around her shoulder and she gratefully latches onto it.

“Take your time,” I remind her. She opens her mouth and plows onward.

“He told me that this would be my lesson in obedience. I would do what he said, everything he said. He told me- told me to take my clothes off. I hesitated again, so he struck me. Said every time I disobeyed, the punishments would get worse. So I took off my shirt and my pants. He told me to kneel down on the, the floor. So I did. Then he, he told me to put my hands behind my back. He tied them with a rope, tied me to the bed.” 

“Take a breath, Amber,” I remind her. “You can take your time.”

“He unzipped his trousers, and he forced himself inside my, my mouth,” she whispers. My stomach turns as I imagine a grown man forcing himself on an eight year old, the picture of pedophelia. “I felt so dirty, so disgusting. I started to cry, and he told me to stop. I tried, I really did, but every time I got close, I thought about what he was doing to me. So he hit me again. And again. And then he kicked me. And I couldn’t protect myself or avoid the kicks, because I was tied up. Then he untied my hands, and he made me,” she heaved, but nothing came up. “He made me touch him, and, and he made me  _ do things _ and I didn’t want to, but every time I hesitated, he’d kick me, or put a lighter to my skin. I still- I have all the scars.”

“Oh Amber, I am so, so sorry,” I said softly, my vision obscured by tears. Amber’s face was soaked, her nose dripping incessantly. 

“And then, he shackled me up to the wall. All of the rooms have shackles on the wall, for punishments, you know? He shackled me up to his wall, still naked. And then he took out a whip, and he beat me. Told me not to bleed, but I couldn’t control that, so he’d hit me again. And he’d cut me with his pocket knife. And burn me. And whip me. Until finally, I just couldn’t take it anymore. I blacked out. When I came to, my den mum was taking care of me in my room.” When she finally finishes, we sit in silence for a while. The only sound is of her quiet sobs. At first, I am afraid to touch her, to hurt this poor fragile child. I don’t want to remind her of the trauma, reopen old wounds or irritate the burns. But when her body starts shaking, wracked with the sobs, I can’t ignore her as she falls apart.

“I’m so sorry,” I whisper to her over and over again. There’s nothing else I can say, no way I can make this better. I don’t know how long we sit like that. After a while, Holly comes in, grabs her clothes and leaves, never once stopping to question us. 

“What made you decide you want to talk about it?” I finally ask.

“I couldn’t do it by myself anymore. It just, it was just too hard to try and keep it to myself,” she says, sniffling softly. She pulls away, and smiles up at me, but I can see her fear and unease in her eyes.

“Hey, Amber, do you know what psychology is?” She shakes her head. “It’s the study of the mind, how the brain works, our emotions, our thoughts, that sort of stuff. You know what I love most about psychology? It’s the same stuff, whether you read a book written by a muggle or a wizard. Our brains all work the same general manner. We all feel pain, and we all love and we all get angry or upset. But something else that psychology tells me is that even though our brains are all meant to work in one way, no two brains ever work fully the same. I feel pain and love differently than you do, or Holly does, or Scorpius does. And sometimes, something can just go wrong. Something changes and some weird wire in someone’s brain gets crossed, and they do terrible things. 

“So, I guess what I really love about psychology is that we’re always learning something new, seeing something new. There’s always a new side of humanity that we experience. And so, that’s the side that you were forced to experience, but there’s always a new side, and we plan on showing you that side. We want to show you the incredible things about life. Because not all of it is so, so, evil,” I tell her gently.

“Oh, God, could you get any more corny?” Amber snorts, wiping the stray tears from her cheeks.

“I could, if you like,” I chuckle. “I could tell you that today’s the day you turn over a new leaf. Today is the first day of the rest of our lives.” She starts laughing hard, deep laughs, almost as if we had never had the discussion we just had. After a few moments, she stops laughing and we sit in a few moments for another comfortable silence.

“So,” I drawl after a few moments. “Are you ever going to, er, talk about this with the others? Like Scorp and Holly. They won’t push if you don’t want to talk about it, but they do care. They just want to do what he can to help.” She hesitates, unsure what she wants to do.

“I’m not sure. It’s hard to talk about and tell a bunch of people, you know? I mean, I think they deserve to know, yeah?” She shifts uncomfortably.

“Only you can decide if they get to know or not, Amber. But if you really want them to know, but are uncomfortable talking about it, maybe I can help. I could, I don’t know, tell them for you so that you don’t have to talk about it. Would that be something you’d think about?” I offer. 

“I think,” she sighs. “I think it’s better if it comes from me. I’ll tell them later, maybe after everyone else goes to bed.”

“Sounds like a plan. Now, I do believe I smell Nana’s roast, and it’s almost done. Wanna come eat something?” I ask, standing up. I offer her my hand as she nods.

“Maybe I can get a slice of the rarer meat,” she says with a small smile, following me down the stairs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couldn't have Scorpius and Rose apart for too long, right?


	28. The Moon's Call

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Amber, you know we’re here fo-” Scorp’s awkward reassurances are cut off by a long, low howl. Amber’s body seizes up as she hears the animal-like screeching.  
> “Is that…?” My voice trails off in disbelief. I’m almost afraid to finish my sentence.   
> “A wolf?” Holly whispers, finishing the question. Amber starts to shake.

**Chapter 28: The Moon’s Call**

  
  


Once everyone’s gone to sleep, and the house is still, Scorp, Holly, Amber and I sneak back down into the living room. We’re careful not to step on the loose boards, so as not to make them squeak. No one makes a sound until after I’ve cast the  _ muffliato _ spell, isolating us from the rest of the house.

“I wanted to, er, wanted to talk to you guys,” Amber says softly. “I thought I should tell you about what happened to me, and what happened earlier.” Holly exchanges a loaded look with me and Scorp. Amber doesn’t wait for anyone to respond, instead just launching into her story. She seems more confident saying it this time, but the tears still fall in a steady stream down her face. Holly looks like she’s conflicted between feeling equal parts fear, disgust and empathy. Scorp looks angry and protective, angling himself so that he can watch the door and the window while remaining an obstacle between the exits and Amber. In the wake of the announcement, no one quite knows what to do. Holly launches herself at Amber, hugging her.

“Amber, you know we’re here fo-” Scorp’s awkward reassurances are cut off by a long, low howl. Amber’s body seizes up as she hears the animal-like screeching.

“Is that…?” My voice trails off in disbelief. I’m almost afraid to finish my sentence. 

“A wolf?” Holly whispers, finishing the question. Amber starts to shake.

“It’s Beta Kessler. He’s summoning me,” she says breathily. “I have to go,” she says, standing. I grab her arm and she struggles against me

“Amber it’s not safe,” I remind her. 

“I have to go. I can’t disobey a direct summons. Let go! I have to go!” she shrieks, fighting against me. When she yanks herself out of my grasp, Scorp stands up and wraps his arm around her, pinning her arms to her sides and lifting her off the ground. She starts to yell, kicking and fighting against him, thrashing her head back.

“Amber, stop, we aren’t letting you go,” Scorpius grunts. She may be tiny, but it’s taking him a lot of effort to restrain her.

“I have to go. I have to,” she pleads on the verge of tears. “You know what happens when I disobey! I can’t have another punishment. Please, don’t do that to me! Let me go!” she moans in a state of hysteria. She tries to bite Scorpius in desperation, doing anything to make him let go, but she can’t reach anywhere. There’s a flash of red light and she goes still. I whip around to see Holly’s wand pointed at the now-unconscious Amber.

“Sorry!” she squeaks. “I panicked.” The howling starts up again, and, perhaps I’m imagining it, but the voice sounds angrier, impatient. It also sounds closer.

“We need to get my parents, and then we have to get her out of here. I’ll be right back,” I tell them before I turn and start up the stairs. I take them in twos, which is a feat for me, considering my short legs. When I finally arrive at my dad’s old room, way up top, I’m winded, but this doesn’t stop me from slamming the door open. Mum jumps and her eyes snap open. Dad is slower to notice, only opening his eyes when Mum shakes him.

“We need your help. Amber’s panicked- one of the Betas is here- and he- he’s summoning her,” I pant. “Stunned her- gotta get her out of here.” Before I even finished explaining, Mum jumped out of bed. She cocked her head, listening to the howls that have started up again. I know I’m not imagining it this time: they sound much more aggressive.

“Ron, you stay here. Tell your parents there was an emergency and we went to,” she pauses, not sure where we should go.

“Malfoy Manor,” I supply. “They’d expect us to hide with Weasleys or Potters, but probably not with the Malfoys.” Mum nods tersely and pulls on her overcoat and a pair of boots. Dad tosses her wand to her as she turns to shut the door. He’s snoring again before we’ve even cleared the landing. When we’re back with the others, I see Scorpius has shifted Amber so that he’s cradling her. She looks as if she’s asleep, and I’m reminded of just how young she is.

“Scorpius, we’re going to take her to your house. It’ll be safer there. If he’s out there, then that means we’re in danger. Let’s go,” she barks out, lighting a fire with her wand. Scorp steps through the floo first, carefully holding Amber so that she doesn’t get bumped along the way. Holly follows next, then me. Almost as soon as I step out of the fireplace, Mum follows right behind me.

“Son, is that you? We didn’t think you’d be back so soon,” I hear Mr. Malfoy call out. He walks through the doorway, smiling jovially. I can see Scorp’s mum and grandparents behind him, all dressed in formal dress robes.

“Dad, we need help,” Scorp pleads. He looks around from me to my mum to Amber, his eyes lingering on her.

“Take her up to the guest room in your wing, son. I’ll send Flitty up to assist you and be there in a moment.” He turns on his heel and begins to talk in hushed tones to his guests. Scorp wastes no time and starts jogging out of the living room and into the entrance hall, up the stairs and to the right. I don’t have time to look at the grandeur of the place, the cold, hard, obsidian walls. I can’t bother to run my hands over the silk tapestry displaying the Malfoy family tree, or bearing the family crest. I can’t even register the coolness of the marble tiles under my feet before we’re ushered into a guest suite the size of my entire dormitory at Hogwarts. Scorp bypasses the open bedroom door, instead stopping into a living room of sorts, laying Amber down on the couch. There’s a loud crack, and Flitty appears next to him.

“Young Master, what is you needing from Flitty? Oh,” she squeaks, noticing Amber’s unconscious form. “Is young mistress alright?”

“Can you get some tea, Flitty? Please? She’ll be fine, she just might need something to drink,” Scorp asks gently. 

“I’m going to wake her up now. When she’s awake, she might panic again, so be ready to restrain her. I don’t want her to hurt herself or anyone else,” Mum warns us. Scorp nods as another flash of light hits her. She opens her eyes blearily, but then it’s like flipping a light switch. Her eyes shoot open and she shoots to her feet, like she hasn’t even recognized the change in her surroundings.

“I have to go!” she shouts, struggling against Scorpius. After a few more moments, she seems to look around her, noticing the plush white carpet beneath her feet, the lack of mess, and the darker tone of the room. “Where did you take me? I have to go to the Beta. He’ll be so angry,” she whispers, her voice catching.

“We took you somewhere safe,” Mum says quickly. At this, the fight goes out of Amber. She slumps down onto the couch and curls her legs up to her chest.

“Alright, can someone tell me why you’re showing up in the middle of the night with an unconscious child in tow?” Mr. Malfoy says loudly, letting himself into the room.

“I’m so sorry for the disturbance, Draco, but it was an emergency.” Mum proceeds to let Draco in on the situation as Flitty arrives with tea. Once she’s passed it out to everyone, she tries to coax Amber into taking a sip.

“Please, Miss, tea is helping in times of stress. Especially Flitty’s tea,” she whispers. Amber shakes her head. “Please, Miss, tell Flitty your name.” Amber says something softly, so softly that no one can hear, not even Flitty. “Miss, Flitty is asking you to speak up, seeing as Flitty is not hearing so good right now.”

“Amber,” she says, trying again.

“Miss Amber, please drink the tea. Flitty is to be taking offense if you does not try her tea.” Amber raises her head just high enough to look into Flitty’s eyes. She takes the cup, and I can see her muscles loosen as she takes the first sip. Scorpius mouths “calming draught” over her head.

“Is Master needing anything else of Flitty?” she asks, looking at Scorp’s dad.

“Ah, not that I can see right now, Flitty. Thank you for coming; I know you were meant to be done for the night. You can go back to sleep now.” Flitty nods and disappears with a crack.

Mr. Malfoy clears his throat awkwardly. “You can stay here as long as you need. If you require anything before the morning, I’m afraid you’ll have to get it for yourself as my house elf has evenings off. I, er, I guess I’ll be going. Sleep well,” he announces stiffly, turning on his heel.

“Thank you, Mr. Malfoy. I’m sorry I ruined your evening,” Amber says quietly. At this, Mr. Malfoy turns around and looks at her.

“Don’t be sorry. If there’s anyone who can understand the pressure you’re under, it’s me. Now please, rest,” he says, nodding to her. Amber smiles and curls her legs around herself tighter.

“I’m so sleepy,” Amber yawns. We all watch as she closes her eyes and her breathing slows. 

“Flitty’s special tea: calming draught and sleeping potion. Any time tempers are running high in the Manor, she offers tea with just a tiny splash of calming draught,” Scorp laughs quietly with a small smile. “Let me put her in one of the guest beds so that we don’t wake her.” He scoops her up into his arms, but he can’t cradle her properly; she’s too tightly locked in a ball.

“So, what does this mean, that the beta was out there? How could he have found the Burrow? It’s supposed to be protected,” Holly asks, a tinge of panic in her voice.

“How did he know we were there?” I chime in.

“Well, I’m not entirely sure. I can give you my guesses,” Mum offers. Scorp reenters the room as she starts to talk, seating himself on the couch where Amber had just been. With Mum lowering herself into a silver arm chair that looks rather pointy and uncomfortable, Scorpius motions for Holly and I to sit on the couch next to him. We flock him on either side and he wraps one arm around each of our shoulders.

“Please do,” I say. 

“Well, the Alpha must know that you’re somewhere safe, somewhere where you’re hidden from him. He doesn’t know exactly where that is, but he’s smart enough to make a few logical guesses. He probably put some of his most trusted people out at the most likely places you’d be hiding: the Burrow, the Potter’s house, and our house, first and foremost. He just sort of, well, got lucky and got the right house. He probably just apparated to the area surrounding the Burrow, then tried to see if anyone was there. They probably didn’t even know.”

“Yeah, they probably didn’t even know,” I whispered back.

“If that’s what happened, then what do we do now? Amber won’t lie to him; she’s too afraid of the punishment,” Scorp says with a grimace. An image flashes through my mind of Amber, tied up and screaming as someone beats her. 

“Now we do cleanup. We make it so that she can tell the truth without telling a lie. We move around from safehouse to safehouse-” I cut Mum off, understanding her plan.

“So that when she writes them an update after break, she can tell them that she moved around so much and never stayed in one place for long enough to hear them call.” Mum nods.

“Brilliant. I love carefully constructed half-truths,” Holly yawns. “Sorry, I drank the tea,” she explains. Mum stands. 

“Well perhaps now is a good time to figure out the sleeping arrangements, then. Scorpius, if you could show us where to go?” He stands, walking back towards the room where he put Amber.

“Yeah, there’s two beds in here, so you’ll have to, er, share. Or, I suppose, I could conjure up some cots or something? If you need anything- more blankets, sheets, pillows, or anything- I’ll be, er, right out there. I picked out the couch for this guest room when I was a kid so, uh, and I was going through this phase where I thought pull-out couches were the most magical thing. So, uh, basically, I’ll be right over there if you need something. So, uh, g’nite,” he says awkwardly, gesturing to the beds.

I must hand it to the Malfoys: their taste in interior design is exquisite. The room is pure white with a gold trim around the floor and high, arched ceilings. The ceiling dangling from the wall sparkles, even in the dimmed lighting. I have to look twice to see Amber curled up under the thick cream-coloured duvet on the beds. Each is an enormous bed with enough pillows to stock an entire hotel for the night. The marble fireplace is empty, but Mum shoots a spell at it and a small fire starts to crackle.

“So, uh, I’ll sleep in the bed with Amber, yeah?” Holly shrugs, climbing in. She practically needed a stepstool to get up. Meanwhile, the bed was so large that the two never even came close to overlapping each other, as if they had separate beds.

“Nite, Mum,” I whispered after climbing into bed. “Nite, Scorp,” I called out a little louder. After a moment, he whispers back, just loud enough for my heightened animagus senses, “Nite, Rose.” I know I’ll fall asleep with a smile on my face tonight. 


	29. Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When I heard the muffled whimpers and moans, I knew it was the right decision to stay on the pull-out couch, even with the mattress as lumpy as it is. Amber’s crying out and kicking, but the bed is so large and she is so small that Holly doesn’t even notice. And Rose, God bless her, could sleep through Voldemort’s return and the Third Wizarding War.

**Chapter 29: Truth**

  
  


When I heard the muffled whimpers and moans, I knew it was the right decision to stay on the pull-out couch, even with the mattress as lumpy as it is. Amber’s crying out and kicking, but the bed is so large and she is so small that Holly doesn’t even notice. And Rose, God bless her, could sleep through Voldemort’s return and the Third Wizarding War. 

I scoop her out of bed and whisking her out onto the pull-out couch. She struggles in my arms, fighting against something in her dream. When I’ve put her down on the mattress, I start to shake her gently. I’ve heard that you should never jolt someone out of a nightmare- or is it that you should never wake a sleepwalker?- but it’s probably worse for her to keep seeing whatever images are in her dreams. After a few moments, her eyes open. It takes her a moment before she realizes she’s awake now.

“Scorpius?” she whispers uncertainly. Her lower lip wobbles and she wraps her arm around her middle, holding herself together as she begins to shake. 

“It was just a dream, kiddo,” I tell her, wiping away the first tear that falls down her cheek.

“No, it’s never just a dream,” she whispers. I try to keep wiping the tears off her cheek but suddenly there’s too many.

“Have some more tea. Flitty left some more,” I say, standing to get the kettle. She laughs bitterly.

“Can’t keep drugging me,” she says with a small smile. “I can identify the smell of Calming Draught and Sleeping Potion mixed in with my green tea.”

“My grandma, what a big nose you have,” I tease. She laughs, and the tears have slowed. We sit in silence for a moment, just staring at the fireplace. 

“Actually, some tea couldn’t hurt right about now,” she says softly. I nod, pouring her a fresh cup and heating it with my wand before I hand it to her. She’s asleep again before I can get her to the bed. Settling myself back on the pull-out couch, I pull my book back onto my lap, determined to stay up all night, to protect the girls. If I can help it, Amber will never have another memory to keep her up at night, crying. 

 

It was barely an hour before I heard the whimpering again. 

“Amber, maybe you should just stay awake,” I whispered. But she wasn’t the only one having bad dreams. Rose was kicking her legs and making pathetic little sounds, like a kitten mewling. I looked from Amber to Rose and decided to move Amber first, because she seems more frantic.

“Again?” she groans when she’s awake on the mattress. I put my finger to my lips and go to get Rose. Unlike Amber, she doesn’t stay asleep as I try to move her. 

“Please,” she gasps, her eyes snapping open. She pushes against me, straining to move. 

“Rose, Rose, it’s me,” I hush her, hurriedly taking her to the couch. Amber scoots over, leaving enough room for me to drop a still-struggling Rose.

“Make it stop,” she moaned, her eyes still shut tight. Amber and I both began shaking her. She swats at our hands weakly, still half-trapped in her nightmare. 

“It’s me, it’s Scorpius,” I whispered in her ear. “It’s okay now, we’re here.” I wrapped my arms around her to stop her fighting and all at once, the fight went out of her. It was like flipping a switch: for a moment, she was completely still, then she crumpled and leaned into me.

“Just a bad night all around, yeah?” Holly whispers from the doorway. I see Rose’s mum standing behind her, watching Amber and Rose shaking, still fighting off their nightmares. 

“Well, it’ll be morning soon anyways. No use in all of us trying to go back to sleep,” Mrs. Weasley shrugs. As she’s saying this, I’m desperately trying to stifle a yawn. 

“Have you slept at all tonight?” Amber asks me quietly, touching my wrist. I shrugged noncommittally. Her nostrils flare and I know she’s smelling my hormones, searching for a lie.

“You haven’t,” Rose states. 

“I’m fine. I just wanted to make sure everyone was okay!” I insist, fighting through another yawn.

“Go to bed, Scorp,” Holly says gently. “We’ll be fine for a few hours while you get some rest.” I nod, accepting that four against one are not very good odds. 

“Thank you,” Amber calls out as I pass her. As I make my way into the bedroom, I’m steeling my resolve to stay awake, to listen to them and make sure everything is alright. Noble intentions, but the best-laid plans go awry. As soon as my head hits the pillow, all attempts at staying awake are over, and I fall asleep instantaneously. 

 

While Scorpius sleeps, we plan.

Our goal is to lay a careful string of locations where we’ll travel so that Amber can tell the Alpha a bunch of little half-truths about her whereabouts. Over the next few days, we’ll bounce from safe house to safe house. We’ll swing by a few of my parents’ friends’ houses, then some family’s houses, and finishing the circuit out with the houses of a few ministry officials who were once members of the Order. This way Amber can tell the Alpha that she’s never been in one home for long enough and she may or may not have been around to hear his calls.

By the time Scorp has woken up a few hours later, Nana and Granddad had sent our things over and we were all prepared to move on to the next house. 

“Young master, Flitty is needing to make the bed,” she squeaks, poking at Scorpius. He groans and pulls himself out of the bed. Walking with his eyes closed, he stumbles out into the living room with us and crashes on the couch. He still doesn’t open his eyes; he just curls up on the couch between Amber and me, throwing an arm around each of us, crushing us against his body.

“Scorp, wake up,” Amber calls out, her voice muffled by the fact that her face was shoved up against the couch cushions.

“Oh dear, that won’t work. To wake my son up, you have to do  _ this _ ,” a lilting voice called out laughing. A jet of water spouts from behind us, artfully hitting Scorpius in the face. None of it hit Amber and me, but it drenched Scorpius. He sprang up from the couch screaming profanities and shaking the water out of his hair. The few droplets that managed to hit me were like shards of ice penetrating my skin.

“Damnit mum,” he finally gasped, slicking his wet hair out of his eyes. And dear  _ god _ , did he look good with his hair slicked back like that and his white shirt soaked through and practically invisible. It took me a moment to stop ogling him and realize who had just cast the spell.

Astoria Greengrass Malfoy was standing in the doorway of the living room, tall and imposing, smiling sweetly at her dripping son. Her long dark hair, normally slicked back or pulled into a tight bun, falls in graceful curls around her head. Her face, normally stuck in a cool, composed expression of neutrality is beaming and giggling, watching her son drip onto the carpet. Naturally, she vanishes the water drops away before they can stain her beautiful floors.

“Mum, you couldn’t have found a better way to wake me?” he hisses. She just chuckles and shakes her head, walking into the room.

“Dear, foolish boy. You speak as if I haven’t known you for nearly seventeen years. The best way to wake you up is a cold snap, not a gentle word and a shake of the shoulder. That didn’t work when you were five, and it certainly won’t work now. Come on, get dressed. Breakfast is being served in the dining room,” she says, snapping her fingers at Scorpius. Seeing as everyone else is already dressed due to a few rather productive hours after planning, it’s clear she’s only speaking to him. He stalks off out of the guest quarters, presumably off to his own bedroom muttering mutinous things under his breath.

“Astoria, thank you so much for opening your home to us. I am terribly sorry that we ruined your evening, but the circumstances forced our hand,” Mum says, standing. 

“No problem at all, dear. Emergencies are never planned. Now, come down to breakfast. Hurry on, now,” she barks out, clapping her hands twice for emphasis. We jump, following her out and down to the dining room like a bunch of trained animals. 

 

Breakfast with the Malfoys is a very somber affair, with a lot of staring at each other over the table, silent chewing and nervous glances at the people across from you. Very rarely, Mr. or Mrs. Malfoy would remind the other of some important event coming up, or compliment the food. 

“I really should go check on Scorpius. He’s been up there an awfully long time. If you’ll excuse me,” I whisper finally, cringing as my chair made a horrible scraping sound, breaking the silence. Holly narrowed her eyes at me as I left, and I could swear she was mentally planning my death in her mind. Holly doesn’t take well to feeling abandoned.

“Maybe I can join you,” she starts to say, half-rising from her chair. 

“Nonsense,” Mr. Malfoy says gruffly. “No need for two of you. Go on and bring my son down now,” he says to me. “Er, please,” he adds after a moment’s hesitation. Once I’m away from the dining room, I can’t help but release a sigh. How Scorpius managed to survive here throughout his entire childhood I’ll never know. 

After a few moments of gathering my thoughts and marvelling at the architecture, I find my way back to Scorpius’ room. He doesn’t answer when I knock so I try again. Once. Twice. Three times I knock and he still hasn’t made a sound. Fearing the worst, I slam his door open, wincing at the cacophony of noise when it rebounds off the wall, knocking some books off of a shelf.

“Whasat?” I hear a voice groan from the bed. There, buried in the black, silk duvet and what looks like nearly a hundred accent pillows, is a blond head.

“Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, I could kill you,” I hiss at him, throwing myself onto what I approximate to be his body on the bed. I know that my aim is spot on when I hear him groan softly. “We’ve been down there for nearly twenty minutes in a dining room so silent it may as well be a graveyard and you’re up here  _ sleeping? _ ”

“Didn’t mean to,” he yawns, stretching his arm around my shoulder. “Bed was just so comfy.”

“Damn rich people with their comfortable beds,” I muttered, working hard to pull myself from his grasp. After a moment of futile struggling, I sink into the bed, let him pull me closer up against his chest, so close that I can feel him sigh.

“I’m convinced that Mum put an enchantment on the bed. Make it more comfortable, me more tired when I’m in it,” he mumbles. I feel a yawn coming on and want to laugh. Mrs. Malfoy would put a charm on the bed, probably did it when he was a kid to make him sleep through the night. Of course, it’s unfortunate that now I’m being pulled into the enchantment and can’t muster the energy to try and get up. I’m not entirely sure how long we lay there in a state of quasi-sleep, neither awake nor fully asleep.

“Oh, God, no offense but your mother- oh my God, I am going to  _ kill _ you two for leaving me down there. And you’re  _ sleeping? _ Uh, God,” A voice shouts as the door slams open. After a few moments, I process that it’s Holly berating us and- yep, she is indeed hitting us with pillows.

“Get us out of this bed,” I groan, barely even able to lift my arms to stop the bed.

“I- am- trying,” she grunts, hitting us harder. “Just- get- up- you- lazy- arses.” She punctuates each word with a hit. Then she starts pushing on me, trying to roll me off the bed.

“Cold water,” I moan into Scorpius’ chest, recalling what his mum said earlier about him needing a splash of cold water. Holly just grumbled angrily, giving no warning before the water hits us. I jump off the bed, screaming a string of profanities that would make Nana Weasley wash my mouth out with soap. Scorpius’s own string of swears soon follows, and I have to assume that he’s also been hit with the water.

“Bloody hell,” I said through gritted teeth. “What a wake up call.” Taking her wand, I began to dry my clothes off, before moving onto Scorpius.

“How did you know that would work?” Scorp asks, rolling his neck and shoulders back. “I’ve been trying for ages to get outta that bed. Never works.”

“Scorp, do you have trouble waking up at school?” I ask him. He shakes his head. “How about at my house? Or Holly’s?”

“Nah,” he shrugs.

“Your point?” Holly drawls.

Ignoring her, I ask, “Do you ever have trouble waking up anywhere, except for right here in your bed at home, this one here?” Again he shakes his head.

“Okay, really, if you are going to remain circling here, I’ll have to get some better signallers. Make a point, for the love of God!” Amber shouts, startling me when she jumps up. I hadn’t even noticed her sitting on the floor next to the door, and I don’t know how long she’d been there. When she sees us all staring at her slack-jawed, she shrugs and casts her eyes downward. “Sorry, I get a bit cranky when I’m tired,” she mutters.

“Remember what your mum said about you needed a splash of cold water to wake up? But that’s only a problem  _ here _ , in your bed. What if this enchantment only has one, er, countercharm, shall we call it? The only thing to stop the drowsiness is water, cold water. Your mum’s clever, Scorp.”

“Ah, but you’re cleverer,” Scorp said, rummaging through his closet for an outfit to wear. “I mean, you figured her out. You outfoxed the fox, so they say,” he adds, smirking over at me. “Holly, cover Amber’s eyes. I need to change.” He turns around. Amber snarls quietly, but allows Holly to cover her eyes with her hands. Holly screws her own eyes shut as Scorp begins to pull off his shirt, keeping his back turned to me. 

“Turn round, Rose. I’m half- naked over here,” Scorp says, and I swear, I can  _ hear _ his smirk.

“I did turn round. God, get over yourself, Scorp,” I snicker, my cheeks heating up. He sighed and rolled his shoulders back, showing off every single muscle. I hold my breath, watching him as he bends over, slipping his pyjama bottoms down his waist, and I know he’s teasing me.

“You sure you’re turned round?” he asks, a teasing note in his voice.

“Yes,” I said, trying to speak normally through gritted teeth.

“ _ God, _ Amber, do you smell that?” Holly stage whispers. Amber giggles in response and, though they can’t see it, I shoot them a dirty look.

“Rose?” Scorp asks, tossing his pants on the floor. “Mmm?” I mumble, ashamed of how red I’m turning, watching him undress. He spins round on me, flashing me his cheeky grin. “You’re a rubbish liar.”


	30. Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The time together does not seem to be a good idea for us though. This flat is the smallest space we’ve stayed, and the lack of privacy is really grinding on everyone’s last nerves. That’s the thing about best friends: when you’re upset with each other, you don’t hold back. You know what buttons to push and you just go at it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been a while since I put up a chapter! To make up for it, I'll post a few for you!

**Chapter 30: Lies**

  
  


“Alright, I’m starting to get sick of you guys,” Holly sighs loudly, plopping herself onto the couch at mum’s old apartment. This is our last stay before we go back to Hogwarts, our last few hours actually. Since we’re not taking the Hogwarts Express back, we get a bit more time before we floo in. 

The time together does not seem to be a good idea for us though. This flat is the smallest space we’ve stayed, and the lack of privacy is really grinding on everyone’s last nerves. That’s the thing about best friends: when you’re upset with each other, you don’t hold back. You know what buttons to push and you just go at it.

“Starting? I’ve been sick of you guys since Scorp’s nasty feet were in my face all night and I couldn’t sleep because of the stench,” I snarled, shoving his feet off of my lap and standing up.

“Really? My feet stink?  _ Mine? _ Because really, I believe it was Holly’s trainers on the floor next to my head that kept me awake last night but  _ no _ , it’s all about how Rose can’t sleep,” he snarls, following me around as I pace the length of the living room, always just a half-step behind me.

“Get away from me, Malfoy.” I sneer his surname, only feeling a twinge of remorse when I see the pain on his face.

“You weren’t saying that last night,” he mutters. I spin around on my heel, pointing an accusing finger at him.

“I cannot wait until we have a whole castle so that I won’t have to look at your smug, pompous, arrogant, idiotic, pureblood face.” For just a moment, his face falls, and I regret opening my damn mouth. Before I can even wish I had a Time Turner to go back and fix this, his face morphs into anger and disbelief, and my regret morphs into a vindictive satisfaction. He storms out and slams the door to the bedroom.

“That, er, well,” I hear Amber stutter. “That escalated, er, rather quickly.” Like I said, fighting with your best mate (whom you may or may not be lusting for) is the pits.

 

“Hey, sorry for what I said before, in the flat. You know I love you and your stinky feet,” Scorp says through a mouthful of food. He knocks his shoulder into mine and I drop my fork, letting it clatter on the table.

“Yeah well, we all love your arrogance. It’s what makes you Scorpius  _ Hyperion _ Malfoy. Pretentious name, pretentious attitude. It’s the way of the world,” I smirk back at him, bumping him back.

“Ah, yes, the makeup after the blowout. Took you guys longer than usual. Twelve whole hours you guys stewed,” Holly notes, gesturing at the space between us with her fork. “Usually only takes you guys a few hours before you get lonely and run back to each other.”

“Big castle,” I shrug. “Lots of space. Takes a while to do all that running.”

“I explored the seventh floor as a dog. Never done that before. Had to take my time,” Scorp shrugs.

“I did the dungeons,” I add with an amused smile.

“I was in the Shrieking Shack,” Amber mutters, plonking herself down on the bench next to Holly, who makes a face and starts to pluck the twigs and leaves out of her hair.

“We can tell,” Holly mutters. I fling a forkful of eggs at her, and she quickly dodges it, ducking down under the table.

“So,” a loud, annoyingly happy and bubbly voice drawls out. “Who’s excited about the Hogsmeade visit coming up? I petitioned all last year, and I finally got him to make them more frequent! Who’s excited?” Dom squeezes her head in between Scorp and me, grinning at all of us. Dom’s “petitioning” was a bit more than asking for signatures on a piece of parchment. She was like an omnipresent force of Hell itself, storming around the castle with a group of her friends, all bearing pins proclaiming their message. According to them, Hogwarts students need more than the two or three Hogsmeade visits people get a year. According to her platform, students need more of a chance to destress and leave the school environment. It’ll better their ability to learn. Clearly her aggressive campaigning wore down on Flitwick and he added more visits to the schedule.

“Ecstatic, Dom. Um, when is it?” I ask, craning my neck to look at her. She pulls back, allowing me to spin around and face her.

“Two weeks. Saturday the fifteenth. Then, we have one again on Valentine’s Day! Won’t it be fabulous?” she sighs, flouncing off before we can even respond.

“Great,” Amber sighs. “Now I get to watch all of my friends go off and have all the fun in Hogsmeade without me more often. Fantastic.”

“Don’t worry, Ambs,” Holly grins, “You won’t lose us. Rose can’t even leave the castle, so we’ll be here with you.”

“No, no you won’t,” I tell her, scrunching up my eyebrows. “No, you’ll go to the village, you’ll go to Zonko’s, or the second location of Weasley’s Wizarding Wheezes, or the Three Broomsticks. You’ll go get sweets at Honeyduke’s, go to Scrivenshaft’s or something. You’ll get me a nice present, and you’ll come back cold and complaining about wind burn. You’re not going to sit here and do nothing because you think you need to babysit me,” I snort.

“Rose, you know why we have to stay,” Holly says, rolling her eyes. 

“No, you don’t  _ have  _ to stay. I’ll be fine here,” I insist.

“We’ll talk about this after class,” Holly whispers, patting my hand.

“No, we won’t. We don’t have to because the discussion is over. Hey, Amber, do you know Timmy Williams? Tell him to meet me in the library at half four, this afternoon, yeah?” She nods as I clear my plate, shoving the last scraps of breakfast in my mouth.  _ Fat cow _ , Harvey hisses. Craning my neck, I can see him looking at me, and it’s almost as if he is in my ear, reminding me. I thought I had shaken that, thought it had gone away. But it’s back in full force, accompanied by its new friend nausea. “I’m going to class. Stay here and finish your meals, and don’t you  _ dare _ follow me or leave on my account. I mean it,” I say, pointing an accusing finger at Scorpius, who had already begun to stand.

“Rosie, you’re being unreasonable!” he calls after me as I walk away.

“It’s what I’m best at,” I whisper, more to myself than to him, feeling intensely powerful as the Great Hall doors slam shut behind me.

 

“Rose,” a voice hisses at me, pulling me from sleep. I feel the hands grabbing me, shaking me, and I bolt up, slamming them away, punching, kicking, resisting. The Alpha will  _ not _ take me, not after I spent all day arguing with Scorpius trying to convince him that I didn’t need his protection. “Stop, it’s me; it’s Amber!” she hisses. Opening my eyes, I peer at her in the darkness as she stand over me in an overlarge night shirt and baggy sweatpants.

“What the hell, Amber,” I groan.

“Do you know any, erm, cleaning spells?” she whispers. In the darkness, I can see her shifting from foot to foot.

“What’s wrong? Why, what happened?” I groan, rubbing my eyes. She opens her mouth but freezes when Nora starts to groan and mumble in her sleep.

“Mmmm, was happenin’?” she mumbles. “Whos’ere?” I look at Amber and raise one finger to my lips. Standing, I usher her out into the stairwell.

“Do you know any, er, um, cleaning spells? Can you teach me?” she asks again staring resolutely at her feet, wringing the night shirt in her hands.

“Amber, those are a bit too complicated for a first year. I didn’t even learn any until summer before fifth year! What do you need help with; I can do it for you,” I offer.

“No,” she says hurriedly. “No, er, nevermind. I’ll just, er, I’ll do it the muggle way. Nevermind, go back to bed,” she mumbles, turning to go back down the stairs. I grab her arm and yank her back up to the landing.

“Amber, come on, I’m already awake. Let me help you so we can both get to bed, yeah?” She turns her head away from me.

“No, I’ll just do it on my own. Go back to bed, please,” she says, yanking her arm out of my grip. I yawn, watching her run down the stairs before I can grab her arm again. I wait one moment, debating whether I should chase after her. Groaning internally, I run down the stairs after her, carefully easing open the first year girls’ dormitory door. I can hear her padding her way gently into the loo, turn on the faucet, run the water. I watch as she turns the water off, brings a dripping washcloth out to her bed. When she pulls the covers back, the scent of urine assaults my nose.

“Amber, stop,” I hiss. “Let me help.” Without waiting for an invitation, I tiptoe into the room and whisper “ _ Tergeo _ ,” as a stream of soapy water hits her bed, cleaning up the stain. As I use a heating charm to dry off the spot, she puts the cloth back in the tub. I gesture for her to follow me and walk down into the common room, settling near the dying fire, watching the embers. I don’t look up as Amber settles onto the couch next to me. 

“I have nightmares,” she whispers after a while, still staring at the fire. “I thought it would, um, I don’t know, get better, you know, after I talked with you guys about it. But it’s just gotten worse. This is the first time this has happened, though. First I suck my thumb, now I’m wetting the bed. I’m turning into a bloody toddler,” she says bitterly, sniffing lightly. “I shouldn’t be doing this. I mean, look at you, no offense. You’ve got it worse than me; you’re in danger, being persecuted by this psycho, and you’re doing fine! I’m just… weak.”

“I wake up every night, petrified, shaking, sweating, crying. I’ve started putting up  _ muffliato _ charms around my bed so that my whimpering doesn’t wake anyone else up. You’re not weak, you’re just young, and scared. And I’m scared, too,” I tell her. She doesn’t say anything. “So, next time you’re scared, you can talk to me about it, instead of trying to hide it, yeah? Amber?”

“Yeah, sure. Do you think we could, I don’t know, stay down here for a while longer?” she asks, curling her legs up to her chest. I nod, summoning a blanket. We sit in silence for a while, the only noise the crackling of the dying embers. When my eyes begin to droop, I feel her lean her head against me.

“Rose,” she whispers gently. “Mmm?” I respond. “I think I’m still scared,” she whispers quietly, and I can feel her pull the blanket tighter around herself.

“Me too, Amber. Me too,” I yawn, closing my eyes.


	31. In the Light of the Moon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Come on, now, Rose, don’t be like this. Just talk to me,” he continues to beg. Setting my jaw, I watch my quill move across the paper, denoting everything Binns says. I don’t particularly care about Uruk the Ugly or Gandalf the Grey, or any of the other nonsense he’s prattling on about, but it’s soothing to watch my hand form the words. It’s a nice distraction from Scorpius’ nattering, and when class is over, I take off, not waiting for him.

**Chapter 31: In the Light of the Moon**

  
  


“Just drop it, Scorp, I’m trying to take notes,” I hiss at him. He scoffs.

“Please, no one need bother listening in Binns’ class. He wouldn’t notice if the Third Wizarding War started in his room during his lecture. You just don’t want to talk to me.” He leans across the aisle, his hair falling into his eyes. I bite my lip, knowing he’s right; if Binns didn’t even let his own  _ death _ interrupt his teaching, he wouldn’t stop for a few students not paying attention.

“Shove off,” I hiss again, refusing to make eye contact with him. 

“Come on, now, Rose, don’t be like this. Just talk to me,” he continues to beg. Setting my jaw, I watch my quill move across the paper, denoting everything Binns says. I don’t particularly care about Uruk the Ugly or Gandalf the Grey, or any of the other nonsense he’s prattling on about, but it’s soothing to watch my hand form the words. It’s a nice distraction from Scorpius’ nattering, and when class is over, I take off, not waiting for him.

 

“I don’t even  _ want _ to go to Hogsmeade. It’s no big loss,” he says, dropping himself onto the couch next to me. I peer at him over the top of my book, shifting as the arm of the couch begins to dig into my back. The sunlight streams from the stained glass windows onto his hair, and I’m not sure if I’ve just been missing the reddish tints in his hair, or if it’s a trick of the light, a reflection of the heart on the stained glass window above him.

“I don’t even  _ want _ you to babysit me all day tomorrow, so just go to Hogsmeade and bring me back a nice present,” I respond, smiling at him. He rolls his eyes and leans closer, whispering in my ear.

“What if I told you it wasn’t about babysitting you and more about,” he inhales sharply, “spending some  _ alone time _ with you while most of the school is empty. Fewer eyes, fewer people to accidentally let the Alpha know,” he purrs. His lips gently brush my ear as he pulls away and levels his gaze at me.

“I’d tell you that that’s a dirty, dirty trick to play, and you know it. Besides, I already told Timmy I’d help him with his homework while everyone else is in Hogsmeade.” He groans, leaning back into the couch.

“Why are you pushing this so hard?” he asks.

“Because I refuse to live in fear. I accept that there are some precautions I have to take, but hell if I let him rule your lives, too. You’ll live as normally as possible. So just shut up, and bring me some chocolate from Honeyduke’s. And maybe a new quill from Scrivenshaft’s, yeah?”

“Don’t be so noble, Rose. You don’t want him to go because you want him to live normally. You want him to go so that he’ll bring you presents,” Holly titters, folding herself gracefully onto the ground in front of us.

“Okay,” I relent, smiling. “Maybe it’s a bit of both.”

 

“Scorp, you just have to  _ let it go _ ,” I hiss at him. I yank his arm back, pulling him away from the door to our dormitory.

“Holly, I can feel her fear. I have to help her,” he pants, pulling against me. His shirt is drenched in sweat and sticking to his shirt, his hair askew, his eyes are wide and fearful.

“Stop it right now, Scorp. You can’t protect her from every bad dream,” I insist. His body goes slack and he just clomps down the stairs. I hurry after him and find him sitting on the chair, his body sprawled out apathetically.

“Her entire life, right now, is a bad dream, Hols. This guy, he’s a nightmare, a walking nightmare. How can I not protect her from that? How can I go to Hogsmeade and have fun, knowing I’m leaving her here defenseless, leaving her in danger?” he stares straight ahead into nothingness as he speaks, his voice level and monotone, only cracking on the word  _ danger _ .

“She’d kill you if she heard you call her ‘defenseless,’” I smirk. “She’s not some helpless damsel in distress waiting for her knight in shining armor, you know. She can handle herself pretty well, and she has all these teachers and aurors around protecting her.” I kneel down by his side, putting my hand on his.

“I’m afraid for her,” he tells me, looking at me out of the corner of his eye. “All the time. Every day. And I know she’s scared, too. I can’t explain it, but I know she’s afraid, and she won’t talk about it. She won’t let anyone help. She’s too damn stubborn.”

“She is letting us help, but she has to do some of this on her own, Scorpius. You’re trying to help her, but you’re smothering her! You have to give her space to feel like she’s doing this on her own, yeah?” He pulls his hand away from me, standing up. Before I can say anything else, the entrance creaks open and Amber comes slinking in, holding her side with her head down.

“Amber?” Scorp whispers quietly, starting to stand up. She jumps nearly a mile high when she hears his voice and flinches. I can’t help but gasp when I catch sight of her face. Her right eye is swollen shut, a pattern of black and blue flowering across her skin. There’s deep scratches all over her arms and a long gash across her chest, blood dripping from it. She’s holding her left side like she’s afraid something might fall off if she lets go, and when she moves, we see her drag her leg behind her. 

“I’m fine,” she mumbles, dropping her gaze to the floor. She tries to walk past us up to the dormitory, but falls to the floor with a gasp. When her hands go out to catch herself, we see the deep wound she was trying to hide, and it’s understandable why she was holding it; it’s like there’s a hole in her side, a deep, cavernous gash that goes all the way down to where I can see glimmers of white bone.

“Oh, what the hell,” I yelp. Scorpius curses under his breath before lunging forward, catching her head before it cracks on the end table.

“She needs the hospital wing,” he grunts, lifting her up. I hold the door open for him and follow after him, careful to stay close as we run through the darkened, empty castle. “It was a full moon last night, yeah? That… monster… did this to her,” he pants as he runs up the stairs, careful to cradle her.

“No,” she mumbles. “It’s my fault… Made him angry… Potion tasted funny.” I just shake my head, running ahead of Scorpius to knock on Madame Pomfrey’s door. She doesn’t answer at first, so Scorpius starts to kick the door until she comes to open it.

“There is no need to- oh, well yes, I suppose there is need to bang my door down. Come in, come in, now,” she says, the cross expression on her face changing to one of neutral determination. She opens the door in a grand, sweeping gesture. “Yes, I was worried this might happen. Knew something was off with her when she drank the Wolfsbane. Yes, right here, Mr. Malfoy.”

“She said it tasted funny,” I offer. Madame Pomfrey puts a hand up, silencing me. She waves her wand over Amber’s body. We watch in awe as the cuts stop bleeding, stitch themselves up, heal over. The bruise fades and the swelling goes down. Her bone disappears again behind organs and skin. Madame Moore comes scurrying in with a tray of liquids. She puts them on the table next to Madame Pomfrey and starts easing them down Amber’s throat. We watch as her color starts to return.

“It may be a while before she’s awake and talking again. I suggest you go change before you go to Hogsmeade, Mr. Malfoy. Wouldn’t want to scare the villagers or anyone. Go on, now. I mean it, we’ll let you know when she’s ready for visitors. Go,” she says, shooing us out.

“She’s right about that shirt you know,” one of the portraits calls out. “It looks like you were attacked.” Not a moment after we turn the corner, we run into a young boy, first or second year by the looks of him. He runs head first, colliding with Scorpius’ chest. He looked like he’d been about to complain at Scorp, but his eyes widen when he sees the blood-covered shirt, and he keels over in a dead faint.

“Yeah, maybe I should go change,” Scorp muses, raising an eyebrow. 

“I’ll get Madame Pomfrey,” I sigh, shoving him off in the direction of Ravenclaw Tower.

 

“Oh my  _ God _ ,” I gasp. “I can’t believe you didn’t wake me up for all this!” I shout, shoving Scorpius’ shoulder.

“Sorry, we were a bit more preoccupied with getting help,” he shrugs, smirking at me.

“And making ickle firsties faint,” Holly cackles.

“Oh my  _ God, _ that’s not funny, but it is,” I giggle. “When can we visit her?”

“Well, Madame Pomfrey said it would be a while, but she said that  _ hours _ ago. We could try now?” Holly suggests with a shrug.

“Are you talking about John Lewis, the first year Hufflepuff who fainted this morning? Yeah, he’s fine; he’s out of the hospital wing but desperate to get back. He said he had a friend in there and they wouldn’t let him see her,” one fourth year girl interrupts as she walks by our table. “Sorry, didn’t mean to eavesdrop. He’s my brother, see?” 

“Oh, yeah, no it’s fine! Glad to hear your brother’s alright,” Scorpius smiles.

“Yeah, no problem. If you don’t mind, I just want to return these books before I go to Hogsmeade,” she smiles, running off towards Madame Pince’s desk.

“Hey Scorp, you know what would  _ really _ cheer Amber up? Some sweets from Honeyduke’s, maybe some joke stuff from Zonko’s, you know?” I suggest, grinning slyly at him. He rolls his eyes, sighing. “Didn’t think I’d forget, did you?”

“Come on, Scorp. She’s right,” Holly says, grabbing his elbow. I feel a flicker of resentment at being stuck here while she gets to enjoy a day alone with Scorpius in Hogsmeade.

“As usual,” I add, ignoring the twinge.

“As usual,” she affirms. “Besides, Timmy’s here for his revision with her. We should get out of your hair. Hey Timmy,” she smiles, waving at him.

“Hi Holly,” he says brightly, tripping over himself as he waves to her. “Hi Scorpius! So, Rose, I need some help with my Transfiguration assignment.” As he settles himself into the table, pulling out his parchments and his books, I wave goodbye to Scorp, mouthing the words ‘chocolate frogs,’ sincerely hoping he got the message.

 

“Every part of me is sore,” Amber groans. Madame Pomfrey wouldn’t let us into the Hospital Wing until after dinner, since Amber was still in a lot of internal pain. “And the aurors and professors and Healers and psychiatrists wouldn’t let me be. Always poking, and prodding and asking  _ questions _ ,” she continues.

“Oh, the fiends! They asked you  _ questions _ ?!” I mocked. She scowled at me, but it’s impossible to take her seriously; when she gets angry, her face scrunches up like a toddler about to throw a tantrum.

“Uh, did you hear Scorp made your friend faint?” Holly intercedes. “And, your friend was  _ very _ interested in checking in on you,” she adds, waggling her eyebrows.

“Johnny? He tried to see me?” she asks, looking down as if the pattern of the hospital sheets suddenly became very interesting. “He’s just a friend, sort of my, er, only friend who’s my own age.”

“Do you like him?” Holly asks, grinning and elbowing her.

“Hols, stop it. She’s just a kid, she doesn’t do that yet,” Scorp snaps, pushing Holly away. He puts a protective hand on Amber’s shoulder. “Hey, we got you some sweets in Hogsmeade. Thought they might make you feel better,” he grins, dumping the bag into her lap. Her eyes bug out of her head as she absently picks through packs of Chocolate Frogs, Every Flavour Beans, Licorice Wands, Acid Pops, Cockroach Clusters, Sugar Quills and Cauldron Cakes.

“This is all… for me? I’ve never even, er, never even heard of half these sweets. Never tried them,” she mumbles, reading the packaging on a chocolate frog. “These are your favorite, right Rose? He always said they were, used to buy them and leave them on your back doorstep. Every time, your parents would find them and destroy them, worrying they were poisoned or something. But every time he’d still leave them, because they were your favorite.” There’s silence as we all sit, not quite knowing what to say.

“Amber, can you tell us about last night? Scorp, er, he said that you told him the potion tasted weird. Was it… Was something wrong with it?” She groans, throwing her head back against the pillows.

“I just finished answering all these questions from the aurors. Do I have to do it all over again?”

“I mean, Amber, we’re just trying to help. We just want to, er, understand, yeah? I mean, if you really don’t want to talk you don’t have to, but we just want to help,” Scorpius says quietly.

“I just, er, I don’t know what happened. It was like, like thinking you’re drinking water, but it tastes more like bleach. You know the instant you taste it that it’s wrong, but you’ve already drank the entire dose. I mean, I never liked the taste of Wolfsbane anyway, so I’m used to drinking it as fast as possible. It was just… tasted wrong,” she sighs, shrugging. We sit for a moment as she collects herself, staring at the sweets on her lap.

“So, I went outside with Madame Pomfrey. It was dark, and the moon was starting to rise. I could… feel the wolf rising. It’s like, it’s a voice in my head, sort of. But it takes over, it’s cruel and harsh, and, and it’s me. It’s my inner wolf, the animal that takes over. It started to wake up, and I knew that was bad. See, the wolf doesn’t like the Wolfsbane potion, hates it actually. The potion chains it up, keeps it down. The wolf wants to be free, so when it has the chance, it takes it. The wolf is everything that the Alpha made me: evil, cruel, hating humans, wanting to bite. So, I ran away from Madame Pomfrey. I ran into the forest, to protect her. If I was with her when the wolf came out, she wouldn’t stand a chance. From then on, it’s only flashes. When the wolf takes over, I don’t really have control, so I don’t remember much.”

“Did the, er, the Alpha call you? Did he do something to you? Did he do, uh, this to you?” Holly asks in a hushed voice.

“No, no he didn’t. I would remember that. No, I remember getting in fights with animals in the forest. Like, like these big spiders. And the, er, the centaurs. I ran into the centaurs first, tried to attack a child. They got angry, kicked me a bit, just to send me off. That’s probably where the bruises came from. And then it goes dark for a while. A long while. Then I was on the edge of the forest, and I was being chased by the…” She shudders, “ _ giant spiders _ .” I squirm; Dad told me about the acromantula. When he was a kid in school, they tried to eat him and Uncle Harry, then, after Hagrid’s friend Aragog died, they became even worse, even helped some Death Eaters in the Battle of Hogwarts.

“So, they did this to you?” I ask, squirming slightly, trying to banish the images of little Amber clamped in the pincers of an acromantula, dangling by her leg.

“Yeah, they did. They were chasing after me, some of their pincers clipped my legs, my face. Tree branches whipped me as I ran by, and I tripped. One of them grabbed me around the middle, and I just barely squirmed out of its grip. Next thing I know, I’m limping into the castle, into the common room. I know there’s a lot of blank spaces in that timeline, but that’s all I remember,” she shrugs.

“Do they know what happened to the potion? Was it made incorrectly? Did someone do something to it?” I ask, scooting my chair closer to her.

“That’s for the aurors to determine, Miss Weasley,” Madame Pomfrey calls out, coming up behind us. We all jump back, making room for her at her bedside.

“Can’t help being curious, ma’am,” I grin at her.

“Well, curiosity nearly got your parents killed at every turn, so I’d tread carefully if I were you. Visiting hours are almost over for the night. Say your goodbyes so that I can give her tonight’s potions. If all goes well, she should be ready to go by tomorrow morning. We have to make sure all her internal injuries are healing nicely. I’ll be back in five minutes. That goes for you too, Mr. Lewis,” she calls out. We all spin around on our heels to find a young boy standing in the doorway holding a bag. 

“Hi Johnny,” Amber calls out, smiling. He smiles shyly, waving at her.

“Well, then we’ll just get going, won’t we, Scorp,” Holly says loudly, grabbing him by his elbow. Scorp is narrowing his eyes at the boy, Johnny, who’s quaking in his trainers. 

“I just wanted to check on you, make sure you’re alright,” he squeaks, looking at Scorpius. Scorp puffs his chest out, looking down on the boy. He hides his eyes behind his long blond hair and steps aside, away from the door.

“Alright, love, feel better. We’re going back to the common room. We can come check on you in the morning, yeah? Sleep tight,” I tell her, quickly dragging Scorpius’ other elbow, taking him out the door. He struggles, fighting to crane his neck and keep glaring on at Johnny.

“Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, you leave that boy alone,” Holly hisses, swatting at him. “He does not need your intimidation. Now, let’s go back to the common room, yeah?”

“He’s alone with her. She’s just a kid,” he growls lowly, fighting against us.

“And so is he,” I remind him. “Does he look like he could do any damage? He’s teensy, and besides, he’s only got two or three minutes before Pomfrey knocks him out on his arse. Come on, let’s go.”

“I just want to talk to him, make sure he’s not gonna hurt her,” he says, but he’s not fighting as much now. He stopped the moment we dragged him around the corner.

“Oh stop being such a white knight, Scorp. Just come back up to the common room and show me what you brought me back from Hogsmeade,” I grin. He chuckles lightly before sighing, following us back up the stairs.


	32. Damaged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Panic.  
> Blinding, fear. Heart racing, nauseating, hairs standing on end, teeth on edge, horrifying, insane, heavy breathing, panic.   
> Everything I see, everywhere I look is red. Red sheets, red hair, red blood, red envelopes. Everywhere I look, I see red, like blood. Blood on the walls. Blood on my bed sheets. Blood on my clothes. My shoes. My hair. My trunk. Under my nails. In my eyes. On his hands. On his face. His teeth. My neck. On the floor.

**Chapter 32: Damaged**

  
  
  


Panic.

Blinding, fear. Heart racing, nauseating, hairs standing on end, teeth on edge, horrifying, insane, heavy breathing, panic. 

Everything I see, everywhere I look is red. Red sheets, red hair, red blood, red envelopes. Everywhere I look, I see red, like blood. Blood on the walls. Blood on my bed sheets. Blood on my clothes. My shoes. My hair. My trunk. Under my nails. In my eyes. On his hands. On his face. His teeth. My neck. On the floor.

 

I sit straight up in bed, chest heaving. I can feel the sweat dripping down my face, my back. My bed is drenched, the sheets on the floor in a tangled mess. Everywhere I look, I still see red. I know my bedspread is blue, the walls are a woody chestnut, Holly’s hair is brown. My skin is pale white, and my nails are clean. Still, I see everything as red, blood red.

There’s a creak as the door to the stairwell open. Terrified that the Alpha’s about to walk through the door, I roll over, flopping onto the floor. It hurts, rattles my teeth, bangs my elbows, slams my stomach, my ribs, my everything, but with the adrenaline pumping through me, it feels like nothing, like a mosquito bite, if that. I squeeze myself under the bed, trying desperately to summon my wand nonverbally. My eyes screwed tightly closed, I nearly cry with relief when I feel the worn rosewood handle fly into my hand. Careful to keep the tip hidden underneath the bed, I point it at the doorway, where I hear the creak of the door opening.

“Rose,” someone hisses quietly. I hesitate, not sure whether to use a curse or not. “It’s Scorpius and Amber,” the voice continues. As I shift under the bed, I can see two pairs of feet: Scorpius’ giant, monstrous beasts and a petite pair, likely Amber’s.

“Is she in the toilet?” Another voice whispers. After a moment, I identify it as Amber’s. Sighing internally, I start to wiggle out from under the bed, climbing to my feet.

“I’m here. Just a, uh, bad dream,” I shrug, trying not to laugh when Scorpius jumps a mile in the air.

“You fell off the bed?” Holly groans, rolling over to face us.

“Nah, she got scared, thought we were someone else, and hid under the bed, didn’t you Rosie?” Scorp teases me, rolling his eyes.

“How’d you know?” I whispered, more confused than ever.

“I was just making fun of you. I didn’t think you actually were. Wait, you actually hid under the bed?” He laughs but stops immediately when our roommates start to shift in their beds.

“Common room,” he whispers. Nodding, we all file out onto the stairwell after him. Amber waits until I’ve left and follows directly behind me, grabbing my arm.

“Can you meet me in my room, just for a moment?” she whispers, biting her lip. I cock my head to the side for a moment, not understanding, then remembering the problem she had had a few weeks ago in the middle of the night. We creep back into her room silently, and within moments, her bed is dry and clean again, and we’re creeping back down into the common room. 

“I love the common room in the middle of the night, at like half three in the morning, you know? Even the fifth year kids studying for OWLs have gone up to bed, the fire is starting to die out, it’s still dark, and everything is quiet. Bit drafty, though,” Holly remarks to Scorpius. She’s curled up with one knee drawn to her chest on the floor with him lounging across the entire couch behind her, a blanket strewn haphazardly across his lap.

“It’s an old stone castle, what do you expect?” he yawns.

“Heating charms, maybe?” I suggest. “Or, for a chivalrous young man to offer up a blanket he’s barely even using to a girl in need,” I add, whacking him upside the head. He grumbles as he tosses the silver fleece down to her.

“Ha ha, you’re so clever, Rose,” Scorp replies sarcastically.

“Well, she is in wise old Ravenclaw,” Holly smiles lazily, yawning as she stretches the blanket over her entire body. Amber and I push Scorp into a sitting position, plop ourselves on the couch next to him. We all chit chat, speaking of nothing of importance: assignments we’ve yet to do, results of recent Quidditch matches, arguments we’ve heard amongst our peers. Everyone pretends we aren’t all awake so late because of a few nightmares.

“Hey Hols, how are you and that Gryffindor guy doing? You official yet?” I eventually ask. She flushes, shrugging.

“Leonard and I haven’t quite, er, defined what we are yet. I mean he, uh, he hasn’t said anything either way,” she fumbles awkwardly.

“Is there a ‘but’ coming?” I ask, leaning in.

“ _ But _ ,” she adds, smiling to herself, “he did ask me to go with him to Hogsmeade on Valentine’s Day.”

“Wow! He asked you a whole month in advance? Oh, you have to let me help you get ready for that! It’s an important date,” I grin, leaning into her. “Scorp can supervise you too, if he likes. He can be your bodyguard!”

“He just wants to make sure his friends are safe. I mean, with what’s going on, you can understand why he’s a bit protective of you guys,” Amber says defensively, giving a small smile to Scorpius.

“Nah, I’m not even going to Hogsmeade. No point since I’ve got no one to go with,” he shrugs, throwing his arms around the back of the couch, lightly touching both my and Amber’s shoulders.

“I thought we decided you were going to go and get me some of the new Zonko’s products, some sweets, something,” I scoff, shaking his arm off me.

“You decided,” he stipulates. “Besides, you want me to go by myself while everyone else is all coupled up?”

“Um, well, maybe I could go with you. I mean, the full moon was last night, so it’ll be a whole month before they can strike again. I can get the invisibility cloak from James, it’ll be perfect!” I speak quickly so that they have less time to interrupt and tell me how dangerous it is.

“Are you absolutely mental?” Scorpius shouts, jumping to his feet. “You want to chance this, gamble with your life for what? All for a few sweets?”

“You think I’m that dumb? That superficial, that insipid? No, I don’t want this for a few sweets,” I hiss at him, rising to my own feet. He looms over me, but I don’t back down, I step closer. “I cannot breathe in here. All I have seen are the walls of this castle. I can’t even go on the grounds without an escort. I can’t fly, not after what happened last time. I can’t even run. It feels… wrong to run around inside, when I just want to be free, outside. They won’t catch him. They haven’t caught him, ever. I can’t live the rest of my life inside. I need to show that he won’t run my life, that he can’t… do this.”

“There are other ways to do that, safer ways,” he pleads.

“That’s not the point! I’m sick of being safe!” I shout. “I’m sick of everyone protecting me! I just want to do something!”

“You want to do something?” Amber whispers. “What do you want to do, after Hogwarts, Rose?” I blink at the abrupt change in subject.

“I’d think of being a Transfiguration professor, maybe. I don’t know. What’s the point in this? Why?” I sigh.

“You want to go out, do something, do something with your life, yeah? You go out, thinking it’ll be safe. You think they won’t make you wait before they kidnap you? You think they’ll wait until it’s the full moon before they take you? No, they’ll take you when they can, and once they’ve got you, that’s it. Your life ends there, and you belong to them. They’ll never let you out, and your life will never be yours again. They’ll spend all that time in between your kidnap and the full moon wearing you down. They will beat you, torture you, assault you, and make you their own. You want to do something? You damn well better enjoy it because it will be the last thing you ever do of your own volition.” Her voice has dropped at least two octaves, and the circles under her eyes seem to grow more pronounced. In that moment, she sounds much older than eleven, like she has seen things no child should ever have to see, done things no person should ever be forced to do.

“The way I’m living right now, this life is  _ not _ mine. He still controls me, my actions. Everywhere I go, everything I do, every choice I make is made by him,” I say softly, my voice shaking. She curls her lip in disgust and scoffs.

“You know  _ nothing _ of his control,” she spits at me, stomping back up the stairs. My face flushes with a righteous indignation. How  _ dare _ she suggest that I can’t empathize, that I don’t understand what is going on. All of a sudden, I can’t sit here any longer. I can’t sit here with Scorpius and Holly watching me, eyes full of pity and  _ empathy _ . I can’t sit here knowing Amber is upstairs, cursing me, calling me a fool, a shallow, vapid, idiotic girl who can’t see past the next five minutes. I can’t sit here any longer, so I won’t.

“Rose, where the hell are you going? It’s the middle of the night,” Holly calls after me. I don’t answer, just keep walking.

 

“Damn it, why does she always do this? Why can’t we go after her?” Holly mutters, pacing back and forth.

“You’re always the one who says we need to give her space, time to cool off. She’s just, just pissed off right now. She’s not stupid; she’ll probably just be in the Room of Requirement, stewing. She’ll be there for Potions, and we’ll see how she is then,” I shrug. My skin is crawling, burning with a desire to move, to find her. I know she’s angry, hurt, and just a little bit scared, but I can’t do anything about it. 

“You say that like it’s easy to just sit here, do nothing,” she scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest, slyly trying to brush away the tear rolling down her cheek; Holly has a tendency to cry when she gets angry or frustrated.

“No, it’s not easy, but we have to do it. Going after her will just push her further away. Come on, go upstairs to your dorm. Take a shower, or a hot bath to relax. Get ready for class, and meet me for breakfast,” I smile at her, putting a bracing hand on her shoulder. She nods and turns around, walking back up the stairs. Nodding, I release a huff of air. Easy enough to tell Holly how to do it. Much harder to walk away from her, away from Rose and up the stairs. 

 

Damn it, I am going to be in so much trouble.

James is never going to forgive me for sneaking into his dorm and taking the Marauder’s Map. Al will be  _ beyond _ pissed when he finds out I nicked his dad’s Invisibility Cloak (especially seeing as he’s not supposed to have it). It wasn’t even very difficult, sneaking into Gryffindor Tower. Dom gave me the password a week or two ago so that I could grab some notes of hers I wanted to borrow, not that they were helpful, and the Fat Lady never questions the people who come into Gryffindor Tower, regardless of what house they come from.

I spent hours pacing around the Room of Requirement, but nothing helped. I tried meditation, sleeping, reading, practicing curses and jinxes, working on homework, and even trying to teach myself to do a cartwheel. Nothing worked; My skin crawled with the inactivity and I felt like I was being caged in, trapped. Once class started, when I was meant to be sitting between Holly and Scorpius in potions, I slipped out, taking the Potters’ stuff, slinking through the relatively empty halls cloaked in, well, invisibility, and finding the statue of the One-Eyed Witch. 

_ “You just had to tap on her hump with your wand, whisper  _ dissendium _ , and her hump would open. Follow the passage and it led into the Honeydukes’ cellar. I used to use it when I didn’t have permission to go on Hogsmeade visits,”  _ Uncle Harry once told me. 

When I’ve finally reached the statue, I glance at the map. The nearest dot is some kid named Roger Lewis, and he’s in the boy’s lavatory three corridors away. The stone is cold beneath me as I slide into the chamber, landing roughly on the dirt path. 

It’s a long walk, giving me way too much time to think. As I go along, I question whether or not I’m overreacting. I mean, this was a rather impetuous decision made based on anger and resentment. Am I really willing to risk my entire life, my freedom, my safety, just to prove a point? Just because I was bored?

But then again, what’s the real likelihood that the Alpha will be in the cellar of Honeydukes, waiting for me? I mean, he has an entire pack to run, and I’m trapped in the school all day, every day. He must have to go back to his pack, at least on full moons, if he wants to keep his leadership position, remain a respected authority figure.

I’ve gone back and forth on my decision at least thirteen times by the time I reach the roughly hewn stairway. At the moment, I’m confident that it’s not likely he’s even in the area, and so it is only with slight reservations that I pull myself out of the trapdoor, ducking behind storage boxes. It’s a shame the shop won’t be busy like it is on Hogsmeade visit days, because there’s no guarantee I can get out without raising alarms.

“Damn it Harv, where were you, over leering after that Abbot girl, the barkeep? I swear, you spend one more night over there I’ll…” the voice trails off as I hear footsteps, stairs squeaking. Thanking the sweet Lord above, I dart out from behind the storage boxes and up the stairs. It’s eery, seeing the sweets shop so empty. The only times I’ve ever seen it are on Hogsmeade visit days, when there’s barely room to breathe it’s so packed. The sign on the door says open, but there’s no one working the register since I can still hear both of the owners bickering upstairs.

My stomach growls looking at all the sweets, but it feels wrong to just take them. I was too impulsive to get my entire coin purse with all of my money, but digging in my cloak pocket, I find a few sickles and a galleon, just enough to get a few chocolate frogs and leave myself a galleon for if I need to get a drink later on. I leave the change in the register and walk out, silently cursing when the bells above the door ring. I hope there’s no one looking out their window, since a door moving of its own accord might be slightly noticeable.

I’m not quite sure what to do once I get out onto the street. I mean, I can’t really go wandering around. The shopkeepers will know I’m a student, and will probably tell Flitwick, and the Aurors. Accepting this, I decide I might as well enjoy the little time I’ll have down here before they whisk me away, back to captivity in my stone prison. I want to enjoy the fleeting sunshine on my face, before the clouds come back. Ducking into an alley, I pull the cloak off and start to shove it into my pocket. A clattering behind me makes me jump, and I spin around, backing up into the alley, closing myself in. 

“Hello, babe,” a rough voice whispers. My hair stands on end, and my heart stops. I don’t want to believe it, don’t want to see what I’m seeing. Thick, dark hair falling into piercing, deep brown eyes that seem to go on forever, a hole I’m falling into. He looms over me, and my eyes train on the scar on his cheek, the grisly half-smile. “Time to go home,” he growls, grabbing my arm roughly. I can feel the cloak slip from my grasp, falling onto the ground. He spins on the spot, pulling me into a vacuum of silence. 

Damn it, I’m in  _ so _ much trouble.


	33. Taken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I can feel him pressing against me, his nails digging into my arm. I try to scream but it’s lost in the vacuum of apparition. When we’re back out into the open air, I take a deep breath, my ears popping. My shoe catches on the ground and I start to fall. My arms go out to catch myself but he yanks me back, practically pulling my arms out of their sockets.

**Chapter 33: Taken**

  
  


I can feel him pressing against me, his nails digging into my arm. I try to scream but it’s lost in the vacuum of apparition. When we’re back out into the open air, I take a deep breath, my ears popping. My shoe catches on the ground and I start to fall. My arms go out to catch myself but he yanks me back, practically pulling my arms out of their sockets.

“No, no, babe. Not home yet. This is just a quick stop,” he whispers raspily, his lips touching my ear. I can’t find the strength to move, to pull back from him. I can only whimper when the tip of his tongue flicks my ear.

“Please,” I whimper, pulling against him, my voice cracking.

“Ah, babe, come on, don’t be like this. We can go find a new place to get lunch,” he says loudly. He pulls me to my feet and wraps one arm around my waist, and I can feel something sharp poking into my side. His other arm holds my hand, completely entrapping me in his embrace. “Struggle and I’ll gut you like a fish,” he hisses, leaning into my hair.

“Oh God,” I whimper, leaning away from his face. I can feel the sharp something slowly pushing further into my skin.

“Oh alright, if you insist. Let’s go home, babe,” he continues loudly. I only get one moment to look at our surroundings. I want to cry it’s so ironic. We’re standing in the middle of Diagon Alley, the crowd bustling around us. To the average passerby, we likely look like a couple bickering about lunch plans. Before I can even try to get someone’s attention, hope someone looks at me and thinks  _ What the hell is Ron and Hermione’s daughter doing in Diagon Alley during school with some creep twice her age? _ , he pulls me again into the darkness.

 

“Scorpius, you said she’d be here,” Holly whines, peering anxiously at the door. 

“Maybe she’s just running late,” I whisper, hurriedly trying to finish my essay before Professor Swan walks in. 

“Rose never runs late,” she argues, biting her thumbnail. I swat at her hand with my quill.

“Yeah, well Rose never storms out of the dormitory in a huff and skips breakfast, but she did that today,” I retort. “Give her a few minutes. She probably just waited until we were out of the dormitory before she went back and got into uniform.” Holly nods, but every few seconds, she keeps glancing at the door, waiting for Rose to walk in.

 

“Welcome home, Rose,” he growls, finally releasing his hold on me. I’m gasping for air on the ground, pine needles digging into my knees. “Come on, it’s time for you to see your new home,” he says, urging me to my feet. But I can’t stand. I can’t even draw a breath.

With every breath, my chest starts to ache, until I can’t even try to draw full breath. I settle for short, quick, raspy breaths, hoping that will help. But it’s nearly impossible to really breathe like that. Some part of me realizes that I’m hyperventilating, but all rational thoughts have been banished from my mind. All I know is that Amber was right. I was stupid and impulsive, and now I’m going to die here. 

Black spots swim in front of my vision and I can feel him scoop me up in his arms. He sighs and I can tell by the way I’m swaying in his arms that he’s walking with me. My breath quickens, but the spots prevail and dizziness begins to set in. I can just see the trees beginning to thin, indicating civilization, when I lose to the dizziness. The black spots overcome my vision, and I black out.

 

“Damn it, where the hell is she,” I mutter as we walk into the Great Hall. “She wouldn’t just skip all her morning classes. What the hell is wrong with her?”

“She better come to afternoon classes or I swear, I will kick her arse straight into next Tuesday,” Holly replies, clutching her books to her chest. When we sit down, I can feel my chest start to ache. It hurts to take a breath, feels like there’s something around my ribcage, like an iron noose slowly crushing them, forcing smaller and smaller breaths.

“Scorp, what’s wrong, man?” someone asks. I’m not quite sure how to answer when I can’t even get a proper breath in.

“Shove off. Come on Scorp, let’s just go somewhere else, and we’ll find Rose. It’ll all be fine,” Holly whispers soothingly. I clutch at my chest as she pulls me to my feet, leading me away.

“It’s like, ah, one of Rose’s, ah, damn, attacks,” I panted, leaning over as we went.

“And now we’re going to get you to Madame Pomfrey, just like we do with her. Come on now, one foot in front of the other,” she coaxes gently. She continues in this manner all the way up to the hospital wing. She holds my hand as Madame Pomfrey gives me the Calming Potion. 

“Alright, how do you feel now? Should start to feel the effects soon,” she says matter-of-factly. My breathing has slowed but my mind is racing and my chest still aches with every breath.

“Not great. Er… My chest still hurts and I just feel like somethings, I don’t know, just wrong, I guess?”

“Hmm, well that’s odd. It should have stopped by now. Maybe you need a touch more potion? I must have made a dosage error,” she mutters, more to herself than to us. All of a sudden, the pain is gone, and everything feels good again. My body begins to relax, and I lean back against the pillow. “Ah, there it is,” she sighs, relieved that she was right.

“S’weird that it took longer, yeah? It only takes Rose… er… a second to, um…. calm down,” I slur.

“Yeah, that is weird. But I mean, she’s such a lightweight and Scorp is a sturdy guy, yeah? So maybe it just took a bit longer because of the size difference,” Holly suggests. My vision starts to go fuzzy, like a telescope zooming in and out of focus, or Rose’s grandparents’ old TV that goes fuzzy when the antennas move too much.

“Could be, but it is strange, worth looking into. Miss Moore, could you come take a look at something for me?” Her voice begins to fade, like she’s walking away but I can still see her blurry outline right in front of me.

“I’m tired,” I tell her, sighing. I take a deep breath before closing my eyes, falling asleep.

 

“Morning, babe,” a rough voice whispers, jolting me awake.

“No,” I mumble, scooting as far away as possible. He grabs my wrist roughly, keeping me from going too far.

“You’ll fall off the bed if you go any farther,” he chuckles. “Come on, time for breakfast. You slept all through the night, so you must be hungry.” I open my eyes to a small room, the size of a prison cell. The walls are roughly hewn from stone, brownish gray and cold. The springs squeak as I move, my legs scratching against the dirty white cotton blanket. I take some satisfaction knowing that I’m wearing the same clothes they took me in. Looking around, I notice two other people standing in the corner near the door; one, a girl around Amber’s age is huddling towards the corner, her eyes downcast. She stands in a simple pair of black shorts and a dirty white tank top stained with dirt and what looks like old blood. The man stands in front of the door in all black, from his worn and raggedy sweatpants to the simple v-neck top he’s wearing. Neither of them wear shoes.

“Stand up,” the man grunts, nodding his chin at me. I hesitate, not wanting to get any closer to him, but my other alternative is staying huddled on the tiny bed with the Alpha. When I take a moment to decide, he takes a lunge forward, growling. I scream, but he doesn’t come close enough to even touch me. He bares his teeth, large, yellow and disgusting and growls at me, his eyes looking as black as his shirt. “When a superior tells you to do something, obey.”

“Stop,” the Alpha says sharply from behind me. I cringe finding that I had cowered against him in that moment of fear. To me, he says gently, “please stand up, babe. It’s time for the breakfast ritual.” I stand cautiously, watching as the other man backs up to the door again.

“What do I do?” I croak, my voice cracking with disuse. 

“You have to fight for your meal, just like wolves out in the wild. Winner gets to eat. Ready?” He stands walking over towards the other man. They back up closer to the door, giving us more space.

“I have to fight? How? You took my wand,” I whisper as my knees begin to tremble. The girl takes a step closer, glancing over at the man.

“Real wolves don’t fight with wands. Neither will you,” the man growls.

“Fight with your hands, however you can. Just try,” the Alpha encourages me. I flinch and mentally curse myself for thinking, even just for a moment,  _ hey, maybe he’s not such a bad guy _ . “Ready,” the other girl drops into a crouch, her head snapping up. She fixes me with a steely gaze. “Fight.”

 

“Where am I?” I croak, the bright lights hitting my eyes. I open my eyes and see my parents standing on either side of my bed. Dad seems to have been asleep, his cheek creased from the linen and his hand resting on mine. Mum’s hand is in my hair as if she had been stroking it.

“St. Mungo’s, dear. You fell asleep at school and they couldn’t wake you. The Head Matron worried you had fallen into a coma, so they brought you here. You’ve been out since yesterday,” she explains, a tear rolling down her cheek. When I look around, I see the sterile white linens and walls, portraits of healers overlooking us.

“Oh crap,” I shout. “A whole day? What time is it?”

“Breakfast,” Dad grunts. “The Healers will want to know you’re up. I’ll go find them. Oh, your friends have been waiting out in the lobby all night. I’ll tell them, too,” he adds.

“Which friends?” I ask, propping myself up on my elbow.

“Amber and… er… Holly,” he says.

“Oh,” I say softly. Mum clasps my hand.

“The Aurors are looking for her. She’s going to be alright,” she assures me.

“Well, Mr, Malfoy. You gave everyone quite a scare,” an older woman says, bustling in. She’s stunning, with vivacious brown hair and dazzlingly blue eyes. Her white robes mark her as a Healer, and she has a name tag reading “Healer Stone.” “So,” she says, clapping her hands together. “Tell me how you’re feeling.”

“Groggy,” I reply honestly, “but other than that, I’m okay.”

“How about yesterday? Tell me about how you felt yesterday,” she continues, performing the same spells that Madame Pomfrey usually does when Rose is in the hospital wing. I feel tingly all over, hot and cold, everything. 

“I, well, er, my chest started to hurt. Every time I breathed, so I started to, er, um, hyperventilate. My mind was, I dunno, racing a thousand miles a minute. Everything just felt wrong, you know? Like a panic attack,” I explain, my hands fluttering around my chest as I speak, remembering how it felt, like having the air slowly choked out of me.

“Interesting. And then you went to the hospital wing?” Her wand is by her side now, and she’s just tilting her head, looking at me.

“Yeah, and she gave me some Calming Potion, and it made my breathing slow, but it still hurt and my mind was still racing. Madame Pomfrey was confused and thought she gave me too weak a dose-”

“Did she give you any more?” she interrupts, looking concerned.

“No. She was debating it, but then it all stopped. My chest stopped hurting and my mind quieted, but then I got really tired, and my vision started going wonky.”

“Wonky? Can you describe that?” I sigh, trying to think back.

“It started just on the edges, little black spots. Then everything kept blurring, like it was going out of focus. I was really tired, so I just leaned back on the bed and the fuzzy-ness got worse and the black spots got bigger and then I fell asleep, or, well passed out. I dunno which.”

“Well, it’s a common side effect of the Calming Potion to fall asleep, but it is unusual that we couldn’t wake you, which is what we’re worried about. Did you have any dreams? Do you remember anything from when you were asleep?”

“No, it was just blackness, but can you tell me something, mum?” I ask, turning to her.

“I told you, the Aurors are looking for her. They want to talk to you soon, when you’re better.”

“I’m better now. I want to talk to them,” I tell her.

“Now, Mr. Malfoy, we are ready to discharge you since we can’t find anything wrong with you, but we want you to stay away from anything that might cause unnecessary stress. A visit from the aurors certainly falls under this categ-” the Healer begins to caution. I don’t feel guilty about interrupting her.

“I want to talk to them. I  _ need _ to talk to them. Please, mum,” I beg. She closes her eyes and takes a deep, steadying breath. Knowing my mother, she’s putting herself in Mr. and Mrs. Weasley’s shoes, imagining if it was me missing, and Rose sitting in the hospital bed.

“Discharge him, if you think he’s strong enough. I’ll bring him back to the school and they’ll interview him there so that Madame Pomfrey can take care of him should something happen. I’ll be right back,” she says, gripping my hand tight. Healer Stone clucks her tongue, but walks out, presumably to get the paperwork to discharge me.

“Mum,” I call out as she’s out the door. She turns around. “Thanks.” She just nods, giving me a terse smile. I lay my head back on the pillow, just trying to relax and not imagine what Rose is going through right now.

 

“Fight,” he says. I look closer at the girl I’m facing off with, and I don’t particularly like what I see. She’s got dark bags under her eyes and her cheeks are sunken in, like she hasn’t eaten in a few days. There’s a manic look in her eyes, and they dart around, scanning for danger. She jumps to the side, as if she expects me to charge at her. While we stand there, her crouched and ready to attack, and me just standing normally, I can hear her stomach growling. My nose picks up the faint scent that I’ve associated with not eating, a smell that reminds me of the stomach digesting itself, and a slow death by starvation. I take pity on her, this girl. She wears the scars of battles, bite marks and bruises and scratches, which probably denied her a proper meal. 

“Fight,” the other man growls. “Don’t just stand there.” The girl obey, lunging forward. In that split second, I make the decision to remain stationary, to allow her to tackle me. She slams my head against the wall and her nails dig into my skin. She swings me down onto the bed which squeals under protest. I do nothing as she opens her jaw, putting her teeth on my neck, posed for the kills. Fear runs through me, but she doesn’t do anything more, just holds the position.

“Good girl Jeanie, go get breakfast,” the other man praises her with a terse nod. She jumps off me, looking relieved beyond belief. She flashes me a look of pity and concern before she turns around and runs out the door, the other man following behind me. The door closes with a solemn  _ THUNK _ , leaving me with the Alpha. Neither one of us says anything, but I can feel his anger radiating off of him. I cautiously pull myself upright, sitting with my back to the wall. I pull my knees to my chest, the squeak of the springs the only sound. I find myself watching him as he breathes in and out deeply, as if he’s trying to keep his temper in check. 

After a while, he opens his eyes, locking his gaze on me. “What the hell was that,” he growls through gritted teeth, taking a menacing step towards me. I flinch and close my eyes, bracing for the blow.


	34. Anger and Jealousy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You embarrassed me. The least you could’ve done was try,” he hisses at me, leaning closer. I whimper, not sure what to expect.  
> “I’m sorry,” I whimper again, opening one eye. He’s clenching and unclenching his fists, taking those deep breaths like he’s trying really hard to stay calm. I squint my eyes, trying to determine if what I’m seeing is right.

**Chapter 34: Anger and Jealousy**

  
  


“You embarrassed me. The least you could’ve done was  _ try _ ,” he hisses at me, leaning closer. I whimper, not sure what to expect.

“I’m sorry,” I whimper again, opening one eye. He’s clenching and unclenching his fists, taking those deep breaths like he’s trying really hard to stay calm. I squint my eyes, trying to determine if what I’m seeing is right.

“Were you anyone else, punishment would be swift and severe, but you are new. And you are destined to be the Alpha Female. Some leniency can be granted here. But you can _ not _ , under any circumstances, pull that trick again,” he says, voice strained. He takes a step back and looks at me, his eyes softening.

“I’m hungry,” I whisper, regretting that I won’t get anything to eat now. But I don’t regret it knowing it gave a meal to that other girl, since it’d probably been longer since she’d eaten.

“Then do better at lunch time, and win your fight,” he says simply, walking back out the door, leaving me alone.

 

I’m left alone for who knows how long.

I sit in the darkness, staring at the wall, clutching my knees to my chest and rocking back and forth. My stomach growls continuously for a while at first, but eventually it stops. I try and close my eyes, thinking sleep will pass the time faster, but whenever I close my eyes, I see my friends, and I imagine how scared they must be. There’s an aching in my chest whenever I see Scorpius, and a feeling so strong that it burns my body.

I can feel his fear, his worry, and his pain. It’s so strong it’s like I can see him, watch him pacing the floor of the common room, sitting outside Flitwick’s office, waiting for the Aurors to come down so he can badger them with questions. I can see that he’s sitting on the low stone wall, holding Amber’s hand as she shakes and cries, knowing what might be happening to me. It hits me in my gut, the knot of fear and anxiety he’s feeling.

I’m shaking, rocking back and forth, tears running down my face. I just want him to calm down, to not worry about me. For every moment I know he’s worrying, the knot in my stomach tightens. I’m shaking, rocking back and forth, tears running down my face when the door finally opens.

 

“Oh God, she’s crying. Pathetic excuse for a wolf,” someone scoffs.

“I heard she didn’t even try to fight Carlie at breakfast this morning. Just laid down and let her win,” someone else responds. I don’t want to look at them; I just keep my eyes closed, rocking back and forth, trying to stop the tears. They sound younger than the man who had been in here earlier with the Alpha.

“Open your eyes. Look at us,” the first voice commands. I close them as tight as I can, but I do stop rocking; my body is shaking too much to keep rocking. When I don’t obey, he shoves my shoulder, pushing me back so hard that my head slams against the stone wall. I cry out and my eyes open. There’s two males standing over me, and neither of them looks older than fifteen. 

One is closer than the other, his hand out, so I know he was the first voice, the one who shoved me. He’s paler than I am, like a sheet of paper, with a long, thin nose spattered with freckles. He shows off his yellow, crooked teeth when he laughs at me, an obnoxious, barking sound. His long, red curls shake as he laughs and turns to look at his friend. His friend isn’t laughing, but is smirking obnoxiously. He’s shorter and stockier than the first boy, with short black hair and startlingly blue eyes. Were it not for the smirk and the attitude he’s giving off, I probably would find him rather attractive.

“She’s not even attractive. Don’t know why he would pick  _ her _ to be his Alpha Female,” the black-haired boy says, looking me up and down. I reach back to touch the back of my head where it hit the wall. It stings and the cloying, scent of iron assaults my nose. The red on my fingers is sticky, and I can feel that my hair is covered in it.

“I heard she’s an Animagus, and her form is a wolf. Maybe he thinks it’s a sign,” the red haired boy shrugs. He sees the blood on my hand and grabs it, bringing it close to his nose, as if he’s sniffing it.

“No, you’re wrong,” I croak, my voice strained.

“What’s that? Cat got your tongue?” he laughs, releasing my hand.

“My form isn’t a wolf. I’m a dog, a coonhound,” I correct him. They roll their eyes, looking at each other.

“Like it matters. You’re still not worthy of being the Alpha female. Can’t even fight like a wolf,” the red-headed boy snickers. Anger flares up, and I snarl, shifting into my dog form. The redhead yelps, jumping off the mattress. I bark at them, trying to scare them.  _ I want them to leave, want them gone. Get out, leave me alone. Stop this, don’t kick me. Stop, get out of here. Stop hitting me. No, no, stop kicking me _ .

“Stop it!” I shout, shifting back. I’m curled in the fetal position on the floor, bleeding and bruised. The boys were startled at first, by my shift and my loud bark, but it didn’t take them long to get over their shock. They came at me from either side, kicking me and hitting me. I can taste blood in my mouth, so I run my tongue over the ragged flesh of my tongue and cheeks. One of my teeth has been knocked loose. It hasn’t fallen out, but judging by the searing pain in my nerve-endings, it’s close to.

“Can’t take the fight, get out of the den,” the red-headed boy sneers, kicking me in the stomach as he walks out. When they walk out, I stay curled up on the floor like that, but shift back into my dog form, licking my wounds and whimpering softly. 

 

By the time the door opens again, I’m rocking back and forth on the bed again.

“Lunch time,” the Alpha says. The other man comes in behind him, dragging another young girl. This one is older, probably fourteen. She looks less desperate, less starving. 

“Ready,” the other man grunts. This time, I drop into a crouch, mirroring the other girl’s movements. “Fight.” I see her lunge the moment he says fight. She lunges to the left, so I mirror her movements, trying to block her, using the bed.

She lunges towards me, and I step to the side, feeling guilty as she trips over my foot. When she falls, I spin around, grabbing her shoulder. She struggles, but she’s smaller than I am and scrawnier. It’s not as hard for me to hold on to her, until a wild kick hits me in the stomach. As I’m gasping for breath, she shoves me off and turns, retreating to the corner where she started.

“End it, end it, end it,” the other man hisses under his breath. The girl looks over to him for just a moment, biting her lip. In that moment of hesitation, of distraction, I lunge at her, and we go down on the floor. I feel guilty when she winces, knowing that had to hurt. I straddle her lap, effectively keeping her down, and shove her shoulders down. She bucks, trying to throw me off, but I won’t budge. Leaning down, I awkwardly open my mouth and touch my teeth to her throat. 

She whimpers when the Alpha starts to clap. “Excellent, my Rosebud. Good job,” he beams, pulling me up and into a hug. I flinch as his scent envelopes me. “Let’s go get you something to eat; you’ve earned it.” He smiles down at me as he says this, just looking at me, as if he expects me to smile back. Tentatively, I try to pull the corners of my mouth up into a smile; I think it looks more like a grimace.

“You lost to a day old cub,” I hear the other man whisper at the girl. I hear her sniffle, clinging to the rungs of the metal bed frame, her body shaking. “You’re a disgrace to the pack,” he sneers. I crane my neck trying to watch her as the Alpha is leading me away.

“What’s going to happen to her?” I can’t stop myself from asking. He leads me down a hallway constructed of the same stone-material, but it looks cleaner, and the floor is comprised of cool white linoleum tiles. We pass at least ten more doors that look exactly like mine, with a deadbolt, a chain and the type of lock I’ve only seen once, on the inside of a hotel door when I stayed with Mum’s parents. As I’m passing some of the doors, I can hear whimpering, and growling, muffled fighting noises. I crane my neck and pull, trying to go open the door when I hear a child crying. He pulls me closer to him gently, one hand on each of my elbows, one hand snaking around my waist to trap me.

“Now now, babe, you needn’t worry yourself with that. Come on, baby, let’s go get something good to eat, yeah? You hungry?” He laughs and grabs my behind. I jump, pulling away from him and he just laughs, because his other arm is holding me too close to get away. “Come on, let’s go eat in my quarters.” I whimper, but he shushes me.

Before either of us can say anything, he pulls me down another corridor. There are fewer doors here, and they don’t have as many locks on the outside. He keeps pulling me down other corridors. I try to keep track of the directions at first (right, left, left, right, right, another left) but soon I loose track. Finally, we come to the end of a long hallway in which there are no doors, only one at the very end of the hall. The tile gives way to smooth, dark blue carpets and the walls are polished, smooth wood. 

“I don’t want to,” I moan, pulling back, trying to dig my heels in. He just laughs and picks me up off the ground, bringing me towards the room. The door opens from the inside, and when he brings me over the threshold, I see a younger girl, probably around Amber’s age. She’s Asian, short with black hair held back in a tight bun, keeping it out of her face. She shuts the door behind us and moves immediately out of my line of vision. He puts me back down on the door and I can hear the lock click. 

My feet sink into the plush carpet, and he lets go of my arms. I back away from him, hitting the door. The walls are dark panelled, and the carpet a deep rouge. The furniture is opulent but comfortable, almost like something I could find in the Manor- nothing that Draco or Astoria would buy; it’s too comfortable and informal, not imposing enough. They’re all different colors, as if whoever bought this wasn’t aware it would all be going into the same room.

“This is where I live, and you will be having lunch in here today. Come on, now, come sit. Ask me anything you want about your new life here,” he offers, sinking into an oversized beige armchair. I perch on the edge of a dark green loveseat, looking around hesitantly.

“Lisette, meals,” he barks once I sit. The young girl returns with two plates in her hands, placing one on my lap. It looks like something I might make for myself over summer holiday at home: a hamburger on a plain bun, homemade chips, and a sliced pickle. On his plate, I see a steak and mashed potatoes. He rips into the steak with his teeth, and I see the meat is raw, juice and blood dripping out. 

“Go on, eat,” he calls out, his mouth full of meat. 

“Not hungry,” I mumble, though it feels like my stomach is digesting itself.

“Don’t lie to me, babe. Eat,” he commands, his voice becoming deeper, more commanding. I tentatively pick up the burger, ripping it apart. The meat is more thoroughly cooked than his steak, but there is still plenty of red, more than I generally care to eat. The chips look decent though, so I decide to eat them.

“Bet you thought all we’d eat is raw meat straight off the bone, yeah? Nah, once a week we send some of our den mothers go out to market and purchase food for us. They don’t steal, either. Legal, fair exchange of modern muggle currency for food,” he grins proudly. “We’re not bad people,” he adds. I smile just a little; he’s like a child showing off his drawings to his mum, desperately trying to make me proud.

“How do you make the money?” I ask. “The legal, model muggle currency that you  use to exchange for food?” 

“Bit o’ this, bit o’ that,” he muses, piling potatoes into his mouth with his fork.

“Oh really?” I ask, taking a hesitant bite of my burger. He smiles as if enjoying our conversation.

“Some of our older wolves hold down muggle jobs. Others hold down basic jobs in the wizarding world. Do you wanna know where we do our best with money?” He takes me biting into my pickle for a “yes.” “The stock market. Not hard to figure out, especially when you’ve got wizards on your side who can, er, make things happen.” I nod solemnly, feigning interest.

“That, uh, those den mothers you mentioned? Amber mentioned them, too. Will I, uh, have one of them? Or are they just for the, uh, the little kids you take?”

“Don’t say it like that, like I’m some terrible man who takes kids a ruins lives,” he growls. I just keep my mouth shut, biting the inside of my cheek and staring at my plate, no longer hungry. “Oh, baby, don’t be like that,” he moans, throwing his plate on the table in front of him. He bounds across the room towards me and swiftly moves the plate off my lap. He throws his arms around me and starts to kiss me, urgent and pushy. His hands rove all over my body, exploring every inch and raising goosebumps on my skin like alarm bells ringing.

“Stop,” I mumble. “No, no,” I repeat louder, pushing him away. He hesitates a moment, then pulls away.

“No?” he says, unsure. I cringe, waiting for a smack and a speech about how no one says no to the Alpha. “No,” he repeats. “No,” he says one more time, louder this time, pushing himslef into a standing position. “Alright, then no. Did you finish your lunch?” I nod, confused at the turn in events. “I’ll take you back to your room now.”

We walk in silence, and conversations stop when we pass people in the hallways. They avoid eye contact with him, but stare sidelong at me, curious and afraid. He deposits me at my door.

“Thank you,” I whisper, not entirely sure what I’m thanking him for: the meal or for listening to me when I asked him to stop. He nods brusquely.

“I’ll send your den mother down to introduce herself and tend to your injuries.” I nod as he leaves, touching the spot still slick with blood on the back of my head, wondering what the hell just happened.


	35. Pain and Fear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Please, sir, you have to let me help!” I beg, leaning forward in my chair. Professor Flitwick looks at me with something that looks a lot like pity as he shakes his head.   
> “I’m sorry, Mr. Malfoy, but there are a myriad of reasons you can’t be on any of the search teams,” he repeats, looking up at Auror Jones, who stands next to him.

**Chapter 35: Pain and Fear**

  
  


“Please, sir, you have to let me help!” I beg, leaning forward in my chair. Professor Flitwick looks at me with something that looks a lot like pity as he shakes his head. 

“I’m sorry, Mr. Malfoy, but there are a myriad of reasons you can’t be on any of the search teams,” he repeats, looking up at Auror Jones, who stands next to him. She’s taken the lead on the search team; normally, for such a high profile case, it would be the Head Auror, but since Rose is related to Auror Potter, that’s out of the question. Since Auror Jones was one of the original aurors on the case, she took point.

“Like what? Please, you’ve got to let me help,” I continue.

“For one, you’re underage,” Auror Jones jumps in, “and for another, you just got out of St. Mungo’s after being unconscious for an entire day, and they don’t know what’s wrong with you. You’re too emotionally involved in the case. You’re not an auror. Need I go on?” she raises an eyebrow at me, but her face softens when she sees mine break.

“I just can’t sit around, not knowing what’s happening to her,” I whimper. In my mind’s eye, all I can see is Rose sitting on an old, rickety, metal frame bed with a lumpy, hard mattress and an uncomfortable, scratchy blanket. All I can imagine is her huddled on the bed, clutching her knees to her chest and rocking back and forth, eyes full of fear. I can feel her worry, and her pain, like a knot in my stomach. I know she’s afraid, and I know she’s crying out, and I know I can’t do anything to help her. Every molecule of my being, every part of me is screaming for me to find her and stop that pain.

“We can keep you updated on our progress. But really, you should go back to your common room and rest,” she says, leading me out of the office and down the spiral stone staircase. She leaves me at the bottom of the steps with a reassuring pat on the shoulder and a reminder to go straight to the common room, per our new lockdown procedures. I’m turning around to do just that when I hear a faint sniffling sound.

“Hullo?” I call out quietly, not wanting to attract the attention of the aurors wandering the halls, not wanting to get the person in trouble. 

“Scorpius?” the voice squeaks. Amber’s head pops out from behind a bush in the courtyard, her face red and streaked with tears. Her lips are chapped and bleeding as if she’s been biting them, and her arms have angry, red raised marks on them as if she’s been scratching them.

“Amber, what’s wrong?” The second I say it, I know what’s wrong. Rose is gone, that’s what’s wrong. I’m such rubbish at comforting people; Rose is usually the compassionate one.

“I know what they’re doing to her. I know how they’re going to break her spirit, crush her soul, take her freedom, destroy her. I  _ know _ what they’re doing to her,” she sobs. I reach out a hand and help her over the wall. She falls into my arms, sobbing hysterically.

“Shh, shh,” I say softly, rubbing her back. I drag her backwards, sitting on the stone bench. She throws herself against my shoulder, leaning into me. Her entire body is shaking with the force of her sobs. She grabs my hand as if it is the only thing keeping her tethered to the ground.

“I know what they’re doing to her. It’s, it’s terrible,” she continues to sob. I sit here with her until her tears run dry and she falls asleep, exhausted by her own fear.

 

I sit motionless on my bed in my dormitory for hours, listening to Amber sniffle and Holly try to soothe everyone. I don’t know how long I’m sitting like that. Suddenly, there’s a pressure on my shoulder, like someone’s squeezing it, and a sharp blow to the back of my head. 

It stings, like someone’s whacked me with a blunt object. There’s a sticky feeling on the back of my neck, but when I reach back to touch it, all I can feel is my hair and pain, like when you push a bruise to see if it still hurts.

“Bloody hell, who did that?” I shout, spinning around to see if one of my roommates thought it would be funny to hit me with a stinging jinx. I realize that I had been sitting with my back to the wall, so no one could have snuck up on me.

“Did what, Scorp?” Amber sniffs, peering around.

“Ahh, damn, there’s this, ow, ow, ow,  _ pain _ ,” I grunt, touching the back of my head. “Feels like I’ve been hit with a-  _ ouch, damnit _ -shovel or something.”

“Maybe we should take you to the hospital wing,” Holly suggests. As she says this, I feel an undeniable urge to shift into a dog. Part of me hopes that it will help with the pain, even make it go away. Some part of me knows that shifting doesn’t do anything to heal wounds, but a more urgent, louder part shouts at me to  _ just do it! _ So I do.

_ Head hurts. Still hurts. Make it stop hurting _ , I whimper. Suddenly, there’s more pain, like sharp blows all over my body.  _ Ouch. Stomach, leg, head, head, stomach, stomach, tail. Don’t pull my tail! Stop, please stop, why won’t it stop? Bark, bark and they’ll go away. Growl, ow, no my mouth. Stop the pain, bark louder, stop the pain, growl. _

“Ah, bloody  _ hell _ , make it stop,” I groan, shifting back. The blows and jabs stop, but I ache everywhere. I can taste the blood in my mouth where one of my teeth was knocked loose. The inside of my cheek is ragged, and I feel nauseated.

“Scorp, what the hell, man,” my roommate Sam says, looking down on me from the doorway. There’s a confused look on his face, and he glances over at Holly and Amber who are huddled against my bedpost, terrified and looking down on me piteously. I raise myself up on one elbow, laying on my side, panting heavily. There’s one more, sharp blow, like a swift kick to my stomach, and all the wind is knocked out of me.

“Bloody hell,” Sam whispers. “I’m gonna go get a teacher,” he says, looking at Holly and Amber just before I can hear him bounding down the stairs.

 

“It was scary, Professor. He just started screaming and yelping, convulsing on the ground like someone was beating him. I’ve seen seizures before, and this was different. He was just in pain, and we couldn’t find any way to help him or who was hurting him.” Holly says, her voice hollow and dead, like she’s run out of energy. She stands near the hospital wing door with Amber directly in front of her, wrapping her arms around Amber protectively, like a mother with a child.

“Mr. Malfoy, did you see anyone else in the room? Could someone have been hiding somewhere?” Another Auror sits in front of me, asking the same questions over and over again.  _ Did I see anyone in the room? Did I hear someone saying any spells? Was it cold, like a ghost? Do I have any known enemies? Did I smell someone else there with my dog senses? Is there someone in my House who’d want to hurt me? Was anyone else there? _

“I’ve told you already, no. The first blow was the back of my head, and I was sitting with my back to the wall,” I sigh, wincing as the quick intake of breath makes my ribs hurt.

“Out of my way, Lewis. I don’t care how many badges you have, don’t get in between me and a patient,” Madame Pomfrey says brusquely, bustling in with a tray of potions and pills. Madame Moore comes in behind her, wielding her wand. She shoots a quick smile at the Auror, and mouths  _ “Hi Andy,”  _ before she pushes past him. As they start putting potions in my mouth and waving wands over me, I feel my tooth become more stable in my jaw. My breathing becomes easier, the soreness all over my body lessens, and I start to feel good again.

“Mr. Malfoy, this is the second time in as many days that you’re in here for an illness that we can’t figure out the cause of,” Madame Pomfrey says sternly, raising an eyebrow.

“I don’t know what’s going on, Madame Pomfrey. I wish I did,” I implore, drawing one knee up to my chest.

“Now, I just need to know the truth. Are you experimenting with any… magic, or potions? Trying to make your own? You won’t be in any trouble, we just need to know,” she whispers, leaning in closer.

“No, I don’t have the time or focus to do that! Not with Rose gone! Please, Auror Lewis, go focus on finding her. There was no one around, but the professors will help me figure this out. Please, just go find her!” I end up shouting, making everyone in the hospital wing go silent.

“Mr. Malfoy, we have every available auror on her case, but we also need to figure out what’s going on with you,” he explains patiently.

“Every  _ available _ auror? So what, Rose isn’t important enough because she isn’t out there torturing muggles or stealing, I dunno, wands from Ollivander’s? Because she isn’t a criminal, she isn’t important enough to use your entire force? Are you even trying?” I ask him, my voice cracking.

“I assure you, Mr. Malfoy we are working very hard. Rose is the daughter of a prominent Auror, nice of the Head Auror, and daughter of the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Believe me, everyone is working very hard to find her, and we  _ will _ ,” he says. “Now, run it through with me again. What were you doing when you felt the first blow?”

 

“Honestly, Mr. Malfoy, what are we going to do with you?” Professor Flitwick sighs dramatically, winking at me to let me know he’s kidding. After hours of the same questions, we’ve come to no conclusion. All anyone could suggest was that it might have been a ghost, so Madame Pomfrey wants to keep me and observe me.

“Wouldn’t have been Peeves,” I mumble, more to myself. “Peeves likes chaos, not hurting people for the sake of it.”

“Scorp, just stop. It could have been any ghost. Maybe some ghost was angry and violent and just took it out on you?” Amber yawns. She looks like she hasn’t slept a wink since Rose disappeared.

“Ghosts have no substance; a ghost couldn’t have hurt me like that,” I respond, staring off into space trying to puzzle this out. 

“No, but it could easily have manipulated the surroundings to do so; could have used powerful wind currents, or made an object invisible and clobbered you with it,” Holly suggests.

“That’s ridiculous. Occam’s Razor, Hols! You’re overthinking things!” I snap at her. 

“Scorpius, you started convulsing and screaming in pain on the ground for no reason. Unless you’re epileptic or something, that  _ is _ the simplest explanation and Madame Pomfrey said she checked for any muggle diseases like epilepsy,” Amber says straight-faced. I put my head in my hands.

“I’m sorry, this just isn’t making any sen-  _ oof _ ,” I grunt, holding my stomach. The wind is knocked out of me again and I groan.

“Is it happening again?” Amber squeaks. I close my eyes, struggling to draw in a breath. For some reason, this feels worse than any of the blows before, like there was still a huge bruise on my stomach that was just kicked.

“Interesting,” Flitwick mumbles. I open my eyes, slowly regaining my breath. He’s holding his wand out, his head tilted to one side and he stares off into the space just above my head.

“Looking for Nargles, Professor?” I grunt, trying to force a chuckle. Sitting up, I start to breathe again, but the pain is back, like I’ve re-bruised my rib cage or something.

“Ah, no, Mr. Malfoy. Just, thinking. A theory, is all,” he mumbles. “I must go now. Let me know if anything like this, these phantom pains or sensations, happens again, yes? Anything, even the slightest feeling, understand? Right away,” he says urgently. He waits until we nod before he closes the door on us.

“I think it’s time for your lunch, Mr. Malfoy. Miss Wells, Miss Brookes, I presume you’re taking your meal in here as well?” Madame Moore says, popping her head out of the office. They nod and within moments, a house elf has appeared with three trays, our lunch, he squeaks.

“Mmmm, burgers and chips,” Holly mumbles. I start to pick mine apart, but the meat is a bit too raw for my taste; I pick at my chips, instead, not really hungry. Amber just sits there, staring at her food.

“Eat, sweetheart,” Holly urges her. “Starving yourself isn’t any good to Rose. If we want to be of any use, we have to keep our strength up.”

“I can’t eat, knowing what’s got to be happening to her,” she shudders.

“Well, it might be different for her. She’s… The Alpha thinks he loves her; he’s obsessed with her, so he wouldn’t hurt her, right?” I say slowly, picking up my burger; it’s not as bad as I thought it would be.

“Maybe not, but Beta Kessler won’t be so lenient, and neither will any of the other wolves, not the ones I know, anyways.”

“No, no, I can’t think like that,” I say, a bit too loudly. “Rose is smart, and she knows how to play mind games. She can outsmart people, and I have to believe that she’s doing that right now.” Holly smiles.

“Can you imagine? Rose getting all of them to roll on their bellies for her?” she laughs.

“Nah, she wouldn’t be sadistic. She’d just, like, keep conversation with the Alpha, getting information out of him. Just imagine: they’re sitting over tea, discussing his day job, and the stock market. Can you see it?” 

“I still, I’m not, I’m just not hungry,” Amber stutters.

“Just like you’re  _ totally _ not tired, right?” I tease her. “Come on, kiddo, just close your eyes and take a little nap. We’ll be right here to wake you up if you have any bad dreams.” She looks wary, but can’t stifle her yawn.

“Alright, but wake me up in two hours,” she says, curling up in her chair. Not a minute later, we can hear the whistle of air through her nose, and we know she’s out cold.

“You know, it’s sometimes so easy to forget how young she is, because of all the crap she’s been through, you know? But in times like this, she’s just a kid again,” Holly whispers. I shrug, scooping her up and laying her down on an empty hospital bed, pulling the covers up around her. As soon as I put her down, she curls her legs to her chest, pulls the blanket up around her chin, and shoves her thumb in her mouth. “Like, look at that. How could a kid be so old and yet so… young at the same time?” she sighs, pulling a stray tendril of hair out of Amber’s face.

“Magic?” I suggest. She slaps my chest and plops herself back into her chair. I try to pull the corners of my mouth up into a smile; I think it looks more like a grimace.


	36. Questions

**Chapter 36: Questions**

  
  
  


“Ah, hello? Rose?” a voice calls out. I retreat further into my corner, drawing my knees in to my chest, as if I could hide behind them. The door creaks open and the speaker steps in, a tall, leggy older girl. She looks not much older than me, maybe mid twenties. She’s tall, close to six feet, and she’s got big, thick, bushy blond hair and startlingly blue eyes. Her skin is pale but spattered with freckles, most of them concentrated across her nose.

“Who are you?” I call out tentatively. She smiles at me.

“I’m your den mom,” she smiles. “Call me Taylor. How about I take a look at your injuries? Oh, wow, that’s a nasty head wound. You must have had  _ some _ fight for your meal earlier, yeah? Did you at least win?” When she speaks, I hear an odd twang in her voice. She sounds like she’s from the United States, which strikes me as odd.

“That wasn’t, er, from a fight, but yeah I won my meal,” I tell her, trying not to wince as she prods the back of my head. I come away from the wall to let her look at it.

“Oh, not from a fight? Well what happened then? Oh now, hang on, this might sting a little,” she warns me. I feel a whoosh of cold air on my scalp and cry out. “Anyways, tell me what happened. How’d you get these bruises, if you didn’t get them from a fight?”

“It was sort of a fight,” I mumble, not liking to rat people out, even if they did beat me up. “Sort of, not, really, er, I don’t know, anything.” She pulls away from me, and instantly I feel all the pain come back, all the bruises start to ache again. She levels her gaze at me, grabbing my arms, and I notice that she’s got a wand in her hand.

“Rose, don’t lie to me; a wolf can always tell when you’re lying.”

“Well, some guys came in and started to, er, you know, hassle me. I got angry and barked at them, because, you know, I’m an animagus and I turn into a dog. They got, I dunno, mad, scared, something, because then they started kicking me, and hitting me. And they slammed my head against the wall a bit,” I said quietly, avoiding her gaze. She breathes in sharply and I look up at her; her eyes are widened and her face distorts in apprehension and anger.

“You have to tell me what they look like. They can’t do that,” she whispers. I think back to how Amber said they were encouraged to beat the young cubs, to train them into being better wolves. “You’re the Alpha’s mate, you’re no normal cub. They shouldn’t have done that to you,” she goes on. This makes more sense; it’s discouraged because of my relation to the Alpha, not because it’s a rotten thing to do.

“One had red hair, long, curly red hair and freckles. The other is shorter and has black hair and blue eyes,” I say shakily.

“Yes, I know those two. Don’t worry; we’ll deal with this. Now, come here and let me heal you,” she says softly.

“You were a witch?” I ask as I lean towards her, letting her heal my bruises and scrapes.

“Of course,” she smiles.

“And how did an American witch find herself all the way out here? When did they take you?” I ask her.

“First of all, I was invited, not taken. I was a normal kid who had a best friend growing up. Then, he got kidnapped and his parents got a letter saying he had been turned. For years, I grew up thinking he was a monster, and told that the boy I knew was dead, gone. Then, in my third year at the Wizarding Academy of the United States of America, I found him again. We were on a trip to the village and he was waiting for me,” she says, not looking me in the eye. She’s put her wand down in her lap and decides to plait my hair, turning me around.

“He told me that everything I thought I knew about lycanthropy was wrong. He wasn’t a monster, he was like a god. He could run faster than ever, smell danger, see clearer than ever, and feel and understand the nature around him. He said it opened his eyes, and it made him so much better. He hung around the school and I’d sneak him in so we could hang out. One day, he told me that he had to leave and go back to his pack. He said they had sent him out on a mission to find his mate, his partner, and that the first girl he thought of was me. So I begged him to take me with him.” She pauses for a moment, and I can feel her running her fingers through my hair, taking the braid out and starting over.

“You chose to come?” I whisper, not entirely sure how to cope with that.

“He told me about this pack before I came. He said they could be intense, but that I’d end up the better for it. He told me about the games, and the punishments, but he also told me about the loyalty, and the honesty. I was sick of people lying to me and double crossing me. My parents divorced, always fighting over me like a piece of property. Mom’s boyfriends would hit me, dad’s girlfriends would steal my money and he would always take their side. I wanted him to take me. I chose this life, and I don’t regret it. Plus, now I’m a den mother. I get to take care of my kids, protect them and help train them.” She ties my hair off and starts to heal me again.

“Do you have any kids of your own?” I ask, trying to steer into safer waters. I see her smiling when she comes around to heal the bruising on my stomach.

“I have a baby boy; his name is Aaron, and he’s just three months old. Maybe I’ll bring him by later to meet his sister,” she offers.

“I’d love that,” I tell her honestly. Sam is just a little bit younger than her son, and I’ve missed him.

“Now,” she says, putting her wand back in her pocket. She crosses her legs and sits on the bed facing me. “Do you have any other questions?”

 

“Amber, the Aurors need to see you,” Holly whispers, shaking her shoulder gently. She startles awake with a yelp.

“Hey, hey, relax. It’s just us,” I tell her, holding out a hand. She looks disoriented at waking up in the bed rather than on the chair.

“You were supposed to wake me up  _ hours  _ ago,” she gasps when she sees the clock. It’s true, but why wake her when she’s sleeping so soundly?

“Regardless, the aurors want to see you. They want to get some more information about the den,” Holly says softly. Night has fallen outside the castle, marking another day gone where we haven’t found Rose, another day she has the spend there.

“Where are they?” she moans, stretching.

“In the Muggle Studies classroom down the hall; it’s become their new command centre. I can go with you, if you like,” I offer. I probably should check with Madame Pomfrey before I go, but at this moment, all I can see is that Amber is afraid, and I want to protect her. I may not be able to protect Rose right now, but I can protect Holly and Amber.

“Yeah, maybe you could just, you know, walk me there, so that I don’t get lost, or attacked by that ghost, thing, you know?” she says softly, like she’s embarrassed.

“Let’s all go. I could use a walk. I’ve been going stir-crazy in this bed all afternoon,” I tell her. Holly agrees, and we all stand up. The hallways are eerily silent. Normally, there are prefects patrolling the corridors, ghosts floating around, Peeves causing trouble, and students sneaking around, snogging behind tapestries. Now, it’s like everyone’s gone; even the ghosts are off somewhere else, probably trying to help the Aurors search the ground for evidence.

“Stop, we only needed Miss Wells,” an Auror says. She’s tall, almost my height, with her auburn hair pulled back into a loose ponytail.

“We just wanted to walk with her,” Holly assures the woman. “We’ll be down in the hospital wing. Send us a message when she’s done and we’ll pick her up.” The Auror nods, and puts a hand on Amber’s shoulder, leading her back into the room. Reluctantly, I head back to the hospital wing.

Holly and I sit for an hour and a half playing muggle card games, talking about everything we can except Rose, and Amber, except to wonder when Amber will be coming back. I had just won the round when the door opens, and Amber walks in, her face ghostly pale and her expression blank. The Auror from before closes the door, disappearing without a word.

“Amber, bloody hell, you look horrible. What happened to you in there?” I shout, standing up. 

“They wanted me to relive it, every moment from there. Whatever I couldn’t remember, they pulled my memories out and used the in the Pensieve. I had to describe  _ everything _ to them, to the entire room. They took notes, like it was a lesson in a classroom,” she says, her voice deadpan. She stares off into space, like she’s still reliving everything.

“Amber, come have something to eat, get some color in your face. You’re pale as the Grey Lady,” Holly says, putting an arm around Amber’s shoulder.

“I had to tell them not only about how he took me there, and what the den looked like. I told them about the way the wolves spoke, the punishment system, the training, the fighting, the shame and humiliation they made me go through. Beta Kessler, and everything,” she continues, as if she hadn’t even heard me.

“Madame Pomfrey,” I call out. Madam Moore comes rushing out of the office.

“She’s gone off on break for a few hours. What’s the problem?” she asks. “Amber, dear, is everything alright?”

“She’s having some kind of panic attack or something. She’s catatonic. Can you give her something?” Holly gently leads Amber to the bed, trying to get her to lay down. Madame Moore doesn’t respond, just summons a vial of the light blue calming concoction.

“Hi, sweets, can you do something for me?” Madame Moore says gently, kneeling by the side of the bed.

“Cubs listen to their elders. I’ll do what you order me to do,” she says, her voice showing no emotion, completely monotone.

“I’m not ordering, I’m asking. Can you drink this for me? It’ll help you feel better,” she says gently, putting the vial in Amber’s hand.

“Cubs listen to their elders. I have to do what you want me to do,” she repeats, gulping the vial down. Within a few moments, her muscles relax, her eyes begin to close, and she sways in her seat. Madame Moore guides her to the pillow, pulling the blanket up around her.

“You four need to start meditating or something. Else you’ll develop an addiction to this stuff and you’ll become dependent,” she mutters to us. Holly and I exchange a look; Rose is the one who really needs this speech, but she’s not here.

“Yes ma’am, thank you ma’am,” I whisper quietly. She nods and goes back into the office, leaving us alone with Amber.

“I wish she had had time to change into her pyjamas. She’ll be uncomfortable when she wakes up in the morning. Sleeping in jeans is a nightmare,” Holly whispers.

“Yeah well, there are worse nightmares she could have,” I reply, getting back into my own bed. 

 

“Hey, Rose, I brought someone to see you,” Taylor says, opening the door. In her arms is a smiling baby in a plain white onesie. He’s got her big blue eyes, but has auburn fuzz on his head.

“Oh, he’s adorable. Can I hold him?” I beg, jumping off the bed. She laughs and transfers him into my arms. He’s a sturdy boy with chunky legs, but he’s happy. He laughs and grabs at my hair.

“Come on, take him and walk. There’s a mandatory pack gathering. You have to come too, and I have to go pick up my two other cubs,” she says, still smiling. She takes my hand and keeps a tight grip on it as she takes me out into the hallway. We turn to the left and go three doors down. She opens the door and I see a young boy, maybe seven years old. He’s scrawny with light hair and dark brown eyes. He avoids my gaze and wordlessly grabs onto Taylor’s hand. “James, this is Rose, and she’s your new sister,” Taylor says lightly.

“Hullo Rose,” he says, still looking at the floor. Aaron gurgles happily in my arms as we continue on five doors further, the last door in the entire hallway. She gets the locks open, and calls out “pack gathering,” but no one responds. After a moment, she goes inside and returns with a toddler, a boy maybe two years old. He’s crying and his white shirt is filthy, as if he’s been lying on the ground, under the bed or something. She carries him on her back and he starts to moan. He’s hungry, he cries. His arms hurt, his tummy hurts, his head hurts. I feel sick to my stomach thinking about how I had been eating burgers and chips on a couch while this boy was fighting for a morsel.

“Rose, this is Harlan, your last brother. Come on everyone or we’ll be late for the gathering,” she says, pulling on James and my hand. Harlan clings to her back, quieter now, but I can hear his stomach growling. We take a few more turns and end up in a large, open space. It’s something like a courtyard, grass under my bare feet. There’s a raised stage set up at one end, and people, well, werewolves I suppose, are gathered in clusters in front of it.

“Stay with me, now,” Taylor tells us as she starts to pull us through the crowd. Some part the way, letting us through. Others sneer and call out insults, mostly to James and Harlan, and a few hiss insults at me. These are the ones who elbow us, get in our way, and trip us. Thankfully, we make our way to the front of the clearing, just a few feet away from the edge of the stage. Now that I’m closer, I can see what’s on it.

It’s a strange combination of objects, like something I’d see in a 17th century colonial village. There are the stocks, with a big hole for a head and two smaller holes where the hands go. It’s built of a sturdy, thick wood and has large metal reinforcements, particularly on the padlock. Next to the stocks, I see a table with some strange shaped objects on it. In the semi-darkness, I can’t tell what they are.

Not a moment after we arrive, the Alpha walks onto the stage, followed by the man from before in my room, and another man. He’s tall, with light hair down to his shoulders; I can only assume these are his Betas. Walking between the Betas are two smaller figures walking barefoot with black fabric bags over their faces and rope on their hands.

“I gather you here tonight to understand the consequences of your actions. It has come to my attention that some of you have been… less than welcoming to my new mate,” he bellows, jumping right into business. I feel every eye find me when he mentions me. I have a terrible knot in the bottom of my stomach that I know who’s underneath those bags. “My mate is an extension of me. If you hurt her, it is seen as an act of insubordination, and can be punishable by excommunication, or death. We are here today to witness the trial and punishment of the perpetrators of this heinous act of defiance. You are all the witnesses. Let the trial  _ begin _ ,” he says with a flourish. At the end of his sentence, the Betas pull the bags off their heads, and I see I was right.

The red-headed boy and the black-haired boy stand chained together on the stage. Neither one wears a shirt; their pale skin reflects in the moonlight. They both wear plain black underwear, the only clothing on them. Bruises cover their entire body, and I see what looks like dried blood on the redhead's chin. These children are about to be put to death. All because of me.

I think I might be sick.


	37. Answers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Alright, Mr. Malfoy, just breathe. The Head’s on his way. Just breathe, boy,” she assures me, rubbing my back.
> 
> “Just breathe, Rose. This is the way it works. Take a deep breath,” Taylor whispers, rubbing soothing circles on my back.

**Chapter 37: Answers**

  
  


“Oh God, I feel sick,” I moan, sitting up in bed.

“Madame Pomfrey!” Holly shouts. She comes running out.

“Moore, go get the Headmaster. Malfoy, are you going to vomit?” she asks me. My stomach is churning, but it doesn’t feel like anything’s coming up.

“No, just hurts,” I groan.

“Alright, Mr. Malfoy, just breathe. The Head’s on his way. Just breathe, boy,” she assures me, rubbing my back.

 

“Just breathe, Rose. This is the way it works. Take a deep breath,” Taylor whispers, rubbing soothing circles on my back.

“They’re kids, and they’re going to  _ die _ because of me,” I hiss back at her, my head between my knees.

“They won’t die. You can make a statement when they’re sentencing. Just shhh,” she says. I try to listen to the Alpha speaking.

“Did you or did you not enter my mate’s room, unannounced and unwanted?” he bellows.

“We did, sir,” the black-haired boy says, his voice breaking.

“Tell me what you did next.”

“We started to insult her, said she wasn’t worthy of being the Alpha female. She wasn’t responding, so we pushed her head against the wall. We kept on insulting her,” the redhead starts.

“Then she changed into a dog and started barking at us. She wasn’t trying to hurt us, just make us back up. But we started kicking her and hitting her. She was crying out and yelping, but we didn’t stop,” the black haired boy adds, his voice trembling.

“Were you aware that this was the Alpha’s mate?” One of the Betas, the one with lighter hair, asks.

“Yes, sir, we were.”

“Did you do this maliciously, with the intent to harm the Alpha’s mate?” he continues.

“Yes sir, we did.”

“Why?” The darker haired Beta asks.

“Excuse me, sir?”

“Why did you target the Alpha’s mate? In other words, did you target this cub because she was the Alpha’s mate?”

“Not exactly, sir. We targeted her because she is a cub and we wanted to train her, make her a fighter, like a real wolf,” the redhead said.

“Is the Alpha satisfied with the accused’s confessions?” The light-haired Beta asks.

“No,” he replies. “I have one more question. Are you sorry?” He crosses his arms across his chest.

“I don’t…” the black-haired boy trails off.

“Do you regret what you did to my mate? If you were to do it over again, would you still do it? Are. You. Sorry?” he asks, glancing at me.

“Sir, were she any other cub, I would do that again. However, since she is the Alpha’s mate, I would not have approached it in the same manner,” the black-haired boy says. The Alpha nods.

“I am satisfied with the confession.”

“We now move on to sentencing. We ask the pack to participate. All those in favor of execution, speak now,” the dark-haired Beta booms. There are a few shouts in favor, but no more than ten people in a group of at least two hundred.

“All those in favor of excommunication?” the dark-haired Beta asks. Another handful of people shout, but not a majority.

“Does my mate have any suggestions in terms of punishment?” the Alpha asks. I feel four hundred eyes train on me and I squirm, shaking my head. I don’t know their protocols, so I can’t even guess as to an appropriate level of punishment. Part of me is vindictive, wanting them to suffer the pain I did. Another, smaller, more forgiving part just wants to see them let go. “No? Alright then, all in favor of the stocks?” There’s a large amount of cheering, jeering, and general noise. “I hereby sentence you both to seventy-two hours in the stocks, starting tomorrow at sunrise.” He claps his hands and everyone disperses. Taylor pulls on my hand, and Aaron squirms in my arms, starting to moan.

“Rose, come,” the Alpha calls out to me. Taylor pushes me towards him, disappearing into the crowd before I can give her back her son; I suppose the Alpha’s orders surpass a mother’s instinct.

“Yes, sir?” I ask him, hiking Aaron up on my hip. He smiles, opening his arms.

“Ah, look at how natural you look with a cub on your hip. I can’t wait until we have one of our own. He’ll be a strong lad, eh? And all his brothers, too, of course,” he laughs. I stiffen, realizing what he’s proposing. I’m not even seventeen and he’s already planning on shagging me to get me pregnant.  _ Multiple times _ . And he’s still smiling. And waiting for me to smile back.

“Is there something you need, sir?” I ask, clearing my throat.

“Just wanted to see my girl, make sure she knows I can protect her, even when she won’t tell me what’s going on,” he says, the shine taken out of his smile just a bit. He claps me on the shoulder and kisses the top of my head. “Take that pup to bed now. Goodnight, my love,” he says, smiling. He lets me wander off on my own. Were I wearing shoes and not holding someone else’s infant child, I could have and probably would have, taken off running. Instead, I just wandered back in the direction of my room. I found the right hallway, but there was no way of knowing for sure which room was mine.

“Ahem, Rose, can I help you find your way?” the dark-haired Beta calls out. He stands at the end of the hallway, his arms across his chest.

“Ah, yeah, just a bit turned around. Which is my room?” I ask him, trying not to show my abject terror.

“I’ll take you. Come on,” he says, waving me to follow him. Hesitantly, I start down the hall after him. He comes to a sudden stop and I run into his back, careful to keep Aaron still. He’s fussing, and his eyes start to close, but then he opens them; he’s fighting sleep more than Amber does after a nightmare.

“Is this it?” I ask. “Thank you so much,” I tell him, waiting for him to unlock the door. He does, opening it and following me inside. “If you, uh, if you see my den mother Taylor, can you tell her I still have her son?” He still doesn’t say anything, just closes the door behind him. I hear the automatic lock click. “Can I help you with something?” He doesn’t reply. He walks towards me softly, taking Aaron out of my arms. 

At first, I’m afraid he’s going to hurt him, but then he cradles the baby, cooing and rocking him until he falls asleep. Very gently, he places Aaron in the centre of my bed, using the blanket and pillow to make a wall, keeping him in the centre. He slowly turns around and walks toward me. I back up until I hit the rough stone wall. He advances further, getting within a hair’s breadth of my face. He reaches around, pulling something from behind his back. Holding it up in front of me, I see the shiny reflection of duct tape.

“Don’t make a sound,” he hisses, placing it roughly over my mouth.

 

“The nausea passed a half hour ago, professor,” I sigh. “What more information can you glean?”

“Hush boy. I’m examining something and I have to finish before I- ah!- lose it. Well, I hope I got everything I needed,” he says, putting his wand down.

“What were you examining, sir?” I ask him. He sighs and levels his gaze at me.

“Mr. Malfoy, have you ever heard of a magical signature?” I nod; Rose had explained the concept when the Aurors were first trying to track the Alpha. “Well, as your teachers, we grow to recognize a pupil’s magical signature very well. When you started to have those painful spasms, I noticed something strange. I saw what looked like a magical signature coming from the atmosphere and leading into your stomach, where you had the pain. I couldn’t quite get a grasp of whose magical signature it was, but now I have captured a snapshot, so to speak, of the signature. I can get the opinions of other teachers and try to identify the signature.”

“So, why would it do something like that? The signature, I mean. Like, they don’t normally do that, do they? Appear in the atmosphere and touch a person? Could it have been a ghost’s signature? Or do they disappear after they die?” I ask, wringing my hands nervously. Every neuron in body is firing, and I don’t know why. Why the hell do weird things always happen to me? Why the hell does everything bad always happen to me? Is it because of my name? Damn Malfoys, always ruining everything with their stupid evil-ness. Granddad Lucius was a Death Eater, supported Voldemort and now I’m being haunted by some crazy ghost of Voldemort’s victims. Crap, I’ll be haunted until the day I die. Maybe I should just make that day come sooner than normally.

“Mr. Malfoy, I need you to take a deep breath for me. You just tensed up, your heart is racing, and you are digging your nails into your arms and drawing blood. Take. A. Breath,” Flitwick says sternly. I obey him, drawing as much air into my lungs as possible, sucking it in until I feel they’re about to pop like a balloon.

“Release the breath, boy,” one of the portraits shout. I open my mouth, and the air escapes like a pack of demons from hell.

“Mr. Malfoy, close your eyes.” I obey, continuing to breathe in the darkness. “Focus on that feeling, that panic that you’re experiencing. Think about it, what’s causing it. Where is it coming from?” I pause for a moment, trying to understand what he means. Panic comes from me, right? My body, my nervous system. Where else could it be coming from? But then, in that quiet, I feel it. The panic is seeping in through my skin, like acid being poured over me, slowly infiltrating every pore, every orifice, every part of me. “Now, I want you to tell me what you see. Don’t open your eyes!” he continues, rebuking me as I open my eyes.

“How can I tell you what I see if-” he cuts me off.

“Close your eyes. Take a deep breath. Find that feeling again, that panic, and where it’s coming from.” He waits as I take a few breaths. The panic is stronger now, but I don’t feel more panicked. It’s like I’m made of Teflon, and it rolls right off like drops of water; I can feel it, but it can’t affect me. “Now, tell me what you see.” I still don’t quite understand. Perhaps it’s like echolocation, like the way bats sense things without seeing them. I’m trying to do that, sense rather than see, when it hits me; I can  _ see _ .

I see a room with grungy stone walls like an unfinished basement, and unfurnished; the only things in there are a bed with an old metal frame and another person. He’s very close to me, too close. He’s pressing up against me; I can feel the rough, cold stone against my back. I hear a baby cry, and I feel something yank on my wrists, a sharp stabbing pain. I open my eyes, and all I can see is Flitwick’ office.

“What the bloody  _ hell _ just happened?” I shout, standing up. “Sir,” I add after a moment. He’s holding his wand, watching me. He pulls a wispy, silver thread from his temple, and it almost looks like pieces of his hair are stuck to his wand. But when I see him touch his wand to the Pensieve, I know it must be a memory.

“Come here,” he says. Before I can move, his wand is floating, extracting the thready memory from my head, putting it into a vial. 

“Was that… Was I… seeing… Rose?” I ask him. He pauses, just watching the Pensieve. “Sir?” I ask again.

 

“No,” I moan, struggling against the tape. He makes quick work of my hands: tying them together with a zip-tie and attaching them to some kind of hook or pulley dangling from the ceiling. My feet just barely touch the floor and I’m leaning backwards, the cold stone wall cutting right through my blouse.

“Nobody says no to Beta Kessler,” he growls, putting his face up to mine. I start to panic, remembering Amber’s stories. Bile rises to my mouth, but I’m forced to swallow it. I close my eyes but he puts his hand on my face, spitting on me as he speaks. “Open your eyes.” So I do.

He grins, backs up a bit. He holds up one hand and I see what I’d never noticed before: his fingernails are sharpened, elongated claws. It looks like the nails have never been cut, and they’re gray with dirt crusted underneath every centimeter. They end in a sharp point, and I know he must sharpen them every night. I can see him doing it, standing in his creepy bedroom, grinning as he sharpened his nails, imagining what he can do with them. He holds up one gnarled claw, and quickly brings it towards my chest.

I let out a muffled scream, but the claw never touches me. He stops just shy of my flesh, tearing a hole in my blouse. And he doesn’t stop there; he drags his claw down my torso until my shirt is completely, flapping open. The way he looks at me makes my skin crawl, and I wish I could just die, right now. I want him to take those damn claws and stab me in the throat, just end it before he does whatever it is that he’s planning on doing.

“I’m going to take the tape off your mouth now, and you will not scream, understand?” I don’t say anything. “Understand?” he repeats, pulling me by my hair, slamming my head back against the wall. I nod, but that makes his grip on my hair stronger. “Good dog,” he leers, his hot breath on my face. He doesn’t hesitate in tearing off the tape, and about all of my skin cells and nerve endings.

He puts his mouth on mine, muffling my whimpers. He pulls away for just a moment, putting his mouth on my neck. For a moment, I remember when Scorpius did this to me in the bathroom, but there is no comparison. With Scorp, I couldn’t feel the plastic zip-ties digging into my skin, drawing blood. With Scorp, I wasn’t cringing when I felt his tongue, his lips, him leaving a trail down my torso. With Scorp, I wasn’t trying to fight and kick when I felt his cold, rough hands on my jeans, undoing the button.

“Rose, I came to see if I could come get Aaron. The Alpha said you were here,” a voice calls out. Beta Kessler growls and takes a step back, leaving me with my shirt torn open and my pants unbuttoned and down around my knees. The door swings open and Taylor steps in. At first, she sees Aaron, still sound asleep on the bed, and she smiles. When she sees the Beta and me, her face drops. She closes the door and stands straight up, hands by her side, eyes focused on the wall in front of her, like a soldier in a line. “Beta Kessler, I apologize for… interrupting,” she says, somewhat hesitantly.

“I found this cub running away, kidnapping your pup in the process. I was interrogating her,” he grunts, circling around Taylor like a, well.. a wolf circling its prey.

“Yes, sir. Would you like me to go get the Alpha, make him aware of her indiscretions?” Aaron starts to cry, tossing around in the bed. Taylor watches him, and I see her muscles twitch, itching to go comfort him and stop him from rolling onto the floor.

“No, go comfort your pup. I’ll get the Alpha,” he snarls, stalking out of the room. We wait until the door slams shut and the automatic lock clicks again. Taylor shakes her head at me when she goes to get Aaron. After a few moments, she puts him back down and comes over to me.

“I can’t untie you yet. He’s coming back, and he wants the Alpha to punish you. He has to see you like this, I’m so sorry sweetheart,” she whispers, brushing the tears off my cheeks. I hadn’t even realized I was crying.

“I wasn’t running away; I was trying to find my room so I could wait for you. I knew you’d come find me to get your son back. I wasn’t running, or kidnapping,” I sob, chest heaving with fear.

“Shhh, sweetheart, shhh. I know, baby but shhhh. I can’t untie you, and I’m sorry. The consequences here are… serious but once you’re a full werewolf, you’ll love it. Please, shhh, you’re waking Aaron and if you don’t stop they’ll hear you,” she whispers, going back to Aaron. She’s still bouncing him on her hip, trying to soothe him when the door opens. The Alpha walks in first, with Beta Kessler storming in behind him.

“After everything I’ve done for you, all the breaks I’ve given you, you pull something like this? You try to run away?” he roars at me. “I have no choice now. Attempts to leave the den without permission from the Alpha and your mate, regardless of who the perpetrator is, is a crime. A crime without a trial. I decide your punishment, and you will join the boys in the stocks tomorrow for forty-eight of their seventy-two hours.” He comes closer, yanking my pants around my ankles, off my feet. He pulls my shirt off, ripping the fabric without any effort. Tossing the clothes to Beta Kessler, he takes another step forward, pressing his body against mine. He takes my chin in his hand, and leans closer.

“And in that last hour, after you’ve lost all hope of being taken from me, and stopped fighting me, I will mark you. Traditionally, I would wait until the night before I turn you, but this is not a traditional relationship.” He releases my chin by throwing my head back against the wall.

“Tie her back up on the bed, and stay with her. I don’t want her trying to escape in the night,” he says to Taylor. 

“Sir, may I tell my mate and give him our cub?” she asks, not looking directly at the Alpha. He nods briskly, sending one more cold look towards me before slamming the door.


	38. Connections Lost and Found

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Severus, have you ever witnessed something like this? You were particularly adept at magical signatures, and recognizing the Dark Arts at work.”  
> “Well,” the portrait drawls. “I have seen something like this, but the situation is in no way comparable.”  
> “I’d appreciate any insight you could offer,” Flitwick prompts.  
> “I’ve seen it only once before in my entire… illustrious career. I was giving Occlumency lessons to Potter as a favor to Dumbledore, and I noticed something similar when the Dark Lord invaded him, in a dream."

**Chapter 38: Connections Lost and Found**

  
  


“Sir, please, talk to me!” I beg. He doesn’t respond, just keeps talking to the portraits.

“And I need you to run to the Auror’s command base and get Deputy Head Auror Leeland. Oh, and Albus, if you could get me Holly Brookes and Amber Wells from the Hospital Wing, I’d greatly appreciate it.”

“Why do you need them?” I ask. He continues talking as if he never even heard me.

“Severus, have you ever witnessed something like this? You were particularly adept at magical signatures, and recognizing the Dark Arts at work.”

“Well,” the portrait drawls. “I have seen something like this, but the situation is in no way comparable.”

“I’d appreciate any insight you could offer,” Flitwick prompts.

“I’ve seen it only once before in my entire… illustrious career. I was giving Occlumency lessons to Potter as a favor to Dumbledore, and I noticed something similar when the Dark Lord invaded him, in a dream. I saw his essence inside the boy’s mind in a similar way, but not exactly alike. In The Potter boy’s case, the essence just existed there, a piece of the Dark Lord’s signature resided there. However, as I’m sure you know, this situation is nowhere similar.”

“Bloody hell,” I mutter under my breath.

“Mr. Malfoy,” the portrait of Snape says dangerously.

“Sorry, sir. I just meant, er, I’m surprised. And I still don’t understand. Professor Flitwick, would you please tell me something. Was I seeing what Rose was seeing?” Everything quiets down for a moment, and all the portraits stop whispering, waiting to hear the answer.

“I don’t know, Mr. Malfoy,” Flitwick says finally. “Oh, Nigellus, I’m glad you’re back. Could you go and fetch Professor Vastra for me? She’s the best person I know at recognizing students’ magical signatures. Oh, and Professor Swan, as well.”

“Fetching things, always fetching things and people, like a common dog. I’m not my bleeding nephew,” he mutters before he disappears out the side of his frame.

“Professor, please, you must have an idea, an opinion, a ‘maybe’ in your head of what’s happening to me. I just need to  _ know _ ,” I beg. I’m ready to get down on my knees and grovel if it gets me answers at this point.

“Mr. Malfoy, I’ve often found that giving answers when I’m unsure of their validity is a rather dangerous endeavor. After everything that’s happened in my lifetime, I try to avoid rather dangerous endeavors,” he says. I slumps back down in my seat, remembering what I  _ saw, _ and what I  _ felt. _ I know with every fiber of my being that I was seeing what Rose is, and I don’t like it. She’s tied up in a basement like an animal, being assaulted. I feel sick to my stomach imagining what he’s doing to her.

“Headmaster, we came as soon as possible. I understand you want us to look at some magical signatures for you?” Professor Vastra states, not waiting for an invitation to come into the room. “The Aurors are right behind me; we were just briefing them after our night shift was over.” Vastra, Swan and Flitwick are hunched over the Pensieve, examining the memory, I suppose, when two Aurors come in.

“Ah, I’d know this signature anywhere. Quite distinctive,” Professor Swan murmurs.

“Yes, of course. Impossible to deny,” Vastra nods.

“It belongs to Mr. Malfoy over here. Was this a trick? To test my abilities? Didn’t think you were like that, Filius,” Professor Swan laughs.

“No, you’re wrong Dave. This belongs to Rose Weasley, I’d bet my life on it,” Vastra responds quickly.

“No, this is most certainly Mr. Malfoy’s.” Professor Vastra puts her hands on her hips and stares down Swan, which is definitely a bad sign. She’s dug her heels all the way down to the core of the Earth and is prepping for a battle; Professor Vastra is  _ never _ wrong.

“Are you insinuating that I am incapable of judging magical signatures? That the  _ years _ I spent studying, trying to understand them, and recognizing distinctions between them, was a waste?”

“Of course not, but I have also spent my time researching and understanding these magical signatures. And I am equally as certain that this belongs to Mr. Malfoy.”

“Alright, take a break from that for a moment, if you could. Let’s examine this memory now, and tell me what you think, your theories.” There’s silence in the room.

“I… I’ve never seen something like that before,” Professor Swan admits, somewhat reluctantly. Professor Vastra hesitates, her face twisting into something that, on a normal person, I’d say looked like confusion.

“Emmeline?” Professor Flitwick says gently, “Is there something you recognize? You’ve seen this before?”

“No,” she says immediately. Then she continues, slowly, like she’s still trying to piece together the puzzle as she’s showing it off, “but I might have heard of something like this. Has anyone here ever read Plato’s  _ Symposium _ ?”

“Of course,” Swan responds, like he’s offended that she even had to ask. Flitwick just nods quietly.

“Well, there’s a part in it, where he’s talking about an old myth. He said that Zeus created man with two faces, four arms, and four legs. But this creature was too powerful to walk the Earth, so he split it, splitting the soul with it. And so, man was forever condemned to searching the world for his other half, the missing piece to his soul. I didn’t understand what he meant until I read a wizard’s interpretation of his works. Apparently, he was a wizard who had… an incredible understanding of the magical world. He saw things, connections, and spells, and magic in the places that other wizards saw… nothing. He noticed that some people had a connection between them that no one else could explain. That’s what he was trying to explain to people with his works.”

“Professor, no offense intended, but what does this have to do with Rose and me?” I interrupt. Her voice took on this dreamy quality, like Rose’s mum gets when she talks about the new reform she’s pushing.

“Well, apparently Plato noticed a connection between people, and he described it as a connection of the souls. It’s very rare, and there have been no documented cases since the mid 15th century. However, it’s known to historians as  _ communis animae _ , or ‘shared souls.’ Basically, it means that the two people are of the same soul. Some believe that the muggle idea of ‘soul mates’ stems from actual pairings of souls. Its rarity is also interesting; it indicates that, though everyone’s soul has another piece out there somewhere, not everyone has the connection between souls, and no one really knows why. I have my own theories, of course, but nothing is proven,” she shrugs, saying all this as if it’s no big deal. Of  _ course _ she has her own theories on rare magical occurrences from the 15th century. You don’t?

“I’d like to hear those theories,” Professor Swan muses.

“It’s often said that tragedy has a way of bringing people together, yes? I believe that this is how the bond is awakened. It doesn’t bind two people who aren’t already two halves of one whole, but it awakens a dormant bond. It connects the minds, the emotions, the essence. As I remember it, you and Miss Weasley were involved in a rather dynamic relationship in your first year, yes? If this is what I am almost certain it is, then that was probably the moment your soul found hers and the connection forged.”

“So, if the boy is connected to her, then he was experiencing what she was,” the Auror adds, surprising everyone; I think we had all forgotten he was even in the room, seeing as we were all listening, paying rapt attention to Professor Vastra’s story.

“Yes, I am afraid that that is the most likely situation,” Professor Vastra says apologetically, looking at me.

“This could be a good thing, if we have a connection to her,” the older, male Auror says. Everyone rounds on him, some looking displeased with his statement. “We can use this connection to find her, perhaps,” he explains.

“Scorpius, I think you can go back to your dormitory now. If all is well with you physically, I suggest you take Miss Wells and Miss Brookes back to the dormitory with you. I suspect they’ve been listening outside the door for some time now,” Flitwick says quickly.

“No,” I tell him loudly. “If there’s a way you can use me to find her, I want you to do it. I have to do it.”

“Mr. Malfoy, go back to your dormitory,” Flitwick repeats, firmer this time. I jump to my feet, and suddenly I’m shouting.

“No, if there’s a way I can find her, I will use it. I have to do it! She just told me that Rose has the other half of my soul! I can’t, I can’t let that go, I can’t let  _ her _ go! You have to let me help her, you have to!” I shout. The other Auror, Auror Jones, I realize, jumps up, holds my arm.

“Auror Jones, if you could get him back to the dormitory, perhaps,” Flitwick says, raising his voice to be heard over my continued pleas. She doesn’t respond, just grabbing my shoulders and pulling me backwards. I struggle against her, but she’s strong, spins me around and gets me to the door, which is now open with Amber and Holly standing just outside. When we reach them, Holly grabs one arm and Amber grabs my hand, confiscating my wand, which I hadn’t even realized I was holding.

“Let’s go, Scorp. Come on, you can’t be of any help right now. Go back to the dorm, come on, please,” Holly whispers, pulling me down the stairs. The further away we get, the harder it is to keep fighting, and they know this, so they keep pulling. By the time we’ve reached the main staircase, I just walk with them, occasionally glancing back in the direction of the office.

“But, he said I could help, he said I could find her,” I say softly to Holly.

“No, he said maybe. Look, the Deputy Head Auror is a good man, who does great work, but he is not an expert on magical signatures, or magical history, or ancient magical myths. He sees opportunities, and possibilities, and he announces the before he thinks about practical applications. He doesn’t know, so don’t ever take his suggestions as demands, or as true facts about what can and cannot occur,” Auror Jones explains gently. We walk in silence for a while until we get to Ravenclaw Tower.

_ “Can something ever be created from nothing?” _ the knocker asks.

“The concept of nothingness doesn’t exist; even nothingness is something, not tangible, but it’s something. So there’s always something there, and something can be transformed into another something,” Auror Jones answers promptly. She notices our sidelong looks as the door opens. “My roommate was a Ravenclaw, loves to discuss metaphysics and philosophy when she can’t sleep at night. Go to bed, and I don’t think I have to tell you not to discuss this with other students.” We nod and climb into the portrait hole only to find the entire house sitting in the common room.

“Oh, they were outside.”

“Hey, Scorp, how’s Rose?”

“Did you hear, his best mate’s gone missing.”

“Oh come on, she was more than his best mate.”

“Yeah, she’s gone missing.”

“Oi, Scorp! Where’s the third musketeer?”

“Holly, can you help me with my homework?”

“Aw, ickle baby Amber’s got her protection so she can fall asleep.”

“Hey, Scorp, tell us about what’s happening out there.” Everyone is shouting, talking over each other, begging for information. We ignore them, and I steer the girls over towards the nook behind the bookcase. I lean my head against the window, trying to get that feeling back, the one that Flitwick helped me find, where I could feel her. But it’s too loud in here, and I can’t get her back.

 

“Scorp, you’ve been sitting there for hours. Go up to bed,” Holly whispers later. The room is quiet now, but I still can’t get back to her.

“I can’t; I have to find her,” I tell her, my voice hoarse from disuse. She grabs my shoulder and sharply spins me around. I hadn’t noticed, but the common room is empty now, and Amber is gone, probably up in her room. Holly is standing there in her pajamas angrily, waiting for me to speak.

“Sitting here staring out the window will not help. Get to bed,” she repeats.

“I have to find her,” I repeat plaintively, hating myself for sounding so... broken.

“Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, you will go up to your room, and go to bed. I get that she’s your soul mate but she’s my best mate, so believe me, I have to find her, too. But we are no good sleep deprived and pining. If we want to be of any use, we have to take care of ourselves.” I don’t say anything, just stare at her. She is missing one of her best friends, and I am too. But she can have more friends, and she does have more friends, more best friends. But I only have one soul mate, one half of me. How can she not understand that this is different? But then, I try to remember how desperate I was when I thought she was just my best friend, and I understand what she’s saying. 

“Fine,” I whisper. “I’ll go up to bed,” I tell her.

“And you’ll go to sleep?” she asks.

“I will… try my hardest to fall asleep,” I say, trying to be honest. She hands me a vial.

“This was… in Rose’s trunk. She kept some on hand because the, er, situation was getting worse. It’ll help you sleep. Please?” she asks. I nod, feeling her watch me as I go back up the stairs. I put on my pajamas, and I get into bed, but I don’t drink the potion. Holly is just trying to help, but I have to find her, and to do that, I can’t be drugged. I have to find her.

I have to.


	39. No Rest for the Lonely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m sorry,” she starts. I’m getting real sick of that phrase.

**Chapter 39: No Rest for the Lonely**

  
  


“Taylor, please,” I whisper. “I’m so cold, can you give me a blanket?” She looks down on me with her arms across her chest. I shift uncomfortably, the tape pulling on my ankles. She kept my wrists bound together, but now I’m laying on my bed. She apologized profusely as she yanked my arms above my head to tape them to the bed frame, and my ankles to each bedpost at the other end.

“I’m sorry,” she starts. I’m getting real sick of that phrase. “I can’t. This is part of your punishment, laying here like this. Everyone has to do it before a day in the stockades.”

“Psychological warfare,” I mutter, shivering.

“I suppose, yeah,” she laughs. “But it happens to everyone at some point.”

“Did it ever happen to Amber?” I ask, just needing something else to think about. I know I’ve chosen the wrong distraction when Taylor’s face blanches. She tries to recover, shrugging and smiling.

“Yeah, of course. She was one of the first people in the stocks I saw when I got here. She was just a pup then, of course.”

“What’s the difference between a cub and a pup? Is it interchangeable?” I’ve heard those two terms used, but I don’t hear a difference.

“A cub is anyone who hasn’t been marked, or mated, or hasn’t been made a full-fledged wolf. A pup is anyone who is too young to be turned, so anyone under five years old,” she explains.

“How.. old was she at the time? Why was she in the stocks when she was so young?” I feel the air temperature dropping, and the goosebumps rising on my skin.

“Well, it was just a week or two after I got here, so Amber was, what, maybe two? Three? She was still adjusting, and she threw a tantrum because she was hungry; she hadn’t won a fight in days. She was in the middle of a fit when Beta Kessler went in to check on her and offer her a snack and she hit him. He got angry and sentenced her to the stockades, but the Alpha reduced her time. She only spent one of the original six hours,” she explains.

“Taylor, what’s it like? In the stockades?” I fidget, wincing as it pulls at the skin on my legs.

“It’s punishment. That’s all you need to know,” she says curtly. I can tell she doesn’t want to talk about it, and normally I wouldn’t push it. But I need to know; I can’t just sit here for hours on end waiting for it, imagining it.

“No, I need to know. I can’t just, I can’t sit here. Please, Taylor,” I beg, craning my neck to try and catch her eye. She sighs.

“It’s hell. It starts the night before when they strip you and tie you to the bed. You feel naked, exposed, and afraid. And then, just when you calm down enough to fall asleep, they barge in, rip the tape off and march you through the hallways to the courtyard. The hallways are lined with people; everyone’s there laughing at you, jeering, throwing things. Then, they put you in a white tank top and black shorts, and lock you in the stockades. It’s painful, and uncomfortable, and awkward. Then, you start to get hungry, but you don’t get food. And people are always there, laughing at you, throwing things at you, hurting you. And then, to add insult to injury, they don’t let you down to use the loo, so you’re mortified and humiliated. They let you down days later tired, in pain, starved, thirsty, and embarrassed all at once. You go back to your room, they take you to clean up, and then you have to fight for your meal. It’s hell, Rose, but you can’t spend your entire night worrying about it. Try and sleep now, while you can; I know I want to,” she explains somberly, yawning at the end. I nod, closing my eyes, but it’s hard to sleep when you’re freezing and tied to the bed. 

I’d say I tossed and turned until morning, but the tape left me perfectly still, like a corpse, until they opened the door the next morning.

 

“Damnit,” I groan when I wake up. I was hoping to dream of Rose. Not in  _ that _ way, like a dream that connects me to her, like Flitwick did last night.

“Hey Scorp, how ya doin’?” Sam asks from the floor, doing his morning set of sit-ups; Sam’s a fitness freak, even in times of lockdown. “Have they heard anything, about Rose?”

“Not supposed to talk about this,” I mumble, standing and shuffling toward the bathroom.

“You aren’t her only friend, Scorp. We’re all just worried and we want to know she’s safe,” my other roommate Noel says, catching my wrist. 

“I wish I knew the answer to that,” I mutter, pulling away from him.

 

“Damnit,” I groan when I wake up. Actually, a better phrase is “come to.” Waking up makes me think of the sun rising, peeking through the curtains. It makes me think of gently rising from my comfortable, soft mattress and putting my blanket at the end of my bed, my pajamas wrinkled from a night of dreams and peace. Waking up is not opening your eyes after getting a few moments of rest, your arms and legs stretched and stinging from the tape that’s binding you to an old rusty metal bed frame with a mattress like a brick. It’s not shivering in your underwear because you weren’t allowed clothes or a blanket.

“Time to go,” the Alpha says gruffly, watching as Beta Kessler tears the tape, taking several layers of my skin with it. Kessler stands me up and yanks my arms behind my back, marching me towards the door.

Taylor calling the halls lined with people was an understatement; I can’t see a single piece of unadorned wall under six feet high. Half of the people are kids, under thirteen at least, and a few are toddlers. Some of them cheer enthusiastically, their faces twisted by anger and hostility. Others clap timidly, looking around as if afraid someone might be watching. Some of the older teenage boys’ eyes rove over my body lasciviously, howling and cheering. As we leave my hallway, where all the cubs are kept, I see more older people, and they look genuinely excited to see me walking by, to see a punishment in the stockades. I guess entertainment around here is lacking.

“Oh the things I’ll do to her,” I hear one voice say.

“That’s the Alpha’s mate, you better be careful.” Another one says.

“Pretty young thing, eh?”

“Wonder what she did to get the stocks.”

“Don’t care, s’long as I get to look at her.”

The walk to the courtyard feels twice as long as it did last night, having to hear everyone’s comments as they think about what I did, what will happen to me in the stocks. But eventually, I make it to the grass, but then I have to fight through the crowd pressing in on me, jeering, spitting and pinching me. 

I’m the last to arrive to the raised stage. I see the other boys standing in only their underwear. I pointedly look away from them, avoiding their eyes. Kessler marches me to the center stockade, twisting my arm further behind my back while we wait. I try not to wince, but it hurts too much.

“We are here this morning to witness the beginning of a punishment. We are a pack, a family. We are here to laud each other’s successes, and witness each other’s failures. Three of our members here have committed heinous acts against this family. Two were caught committing treason against the Alpha’s mate. To strike against her is to strike against me and, by extension, the entire pack. Another was caught attempting to leave the den with another wolf’s pup, leaving the den without permission and kidnapping. All three of them stand before you today, ready to accept their crimes, and face the punishment,” the Alpha announces. 

“Alfred, full-fledged wolf. He is charged with treason to the Alpha, sentenced with seventy-two hours in the stocks,” the other Beta shouts, shoving the red-headed boy forward one step. People jeer as he is forced into a black tanktop and shorts, his head and arms forced onto the stocks. There’s an uproarious cheer as the padlock clinks shut.

“Lucas, full-fledged wolf. He is charged with reason to the Alpha, sentenced with seventy-two hours in the stocks,” he shouts again, shoving the black-haired boy forward a step. The crowd jeers again as he is clothed and shoved into the stocks.

“Rose, unturned cub. She is charged with attempted kidnapping of a pup and leaving without permission, sentenced to forty-eight hours in the stocks,” Beta Kessler snarls. The shouting at the boys was nothing compared to the deafening roar as Beta Kessler roughly yanks the white tank top over my head, his hands lingering way too long, pretending to straighten it out, and pulls on my shorts. The wood is hard, and rough, splintering my wrist as he shoves it down into the hole. He shoves my head so hard I’m afraid a stray splinter of wood might split open my neck, and part of me wishes that would happen, to end this before it even begins.

“You are dismissed,” the Alpha shouts to the crowd. As everyone mills around, he turns to face me, leaning in close. “For you, this has only just begun. Let this be a reminder to you; I can be a very good friend, a good mate, a good Alpha, lover, father to your pups. But I can also be the worst enemy you will ever encounter. Do not make the mistake of crossing me twice,” he growls, tapping my cheek lightly before he leaves.

 

“Ow,” I mutter, rubbing my wrists.

“Something wrong, Scorp?” Holly asks.

“Just, my wrists are bothering me,” I explain, rolling my neck. She puts her quill down, looking around before whispering to me.

“Maybe you should go see Flitwick about that?” she asks. I shake my head.

“Nah, probably just slept wrong on it. No need to trouble him with a crick in my neck. I’m gonna go take a shower. I’ll be back later,” I tell her, dashing off up the stairs to my room. I get into the bathroom, locking the door and running the shower, but I don’t get in.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath, trying to focus on the feeling in my wrists and neck, like I did with Flitwick. I find it easier this time, the feeling. It’s like a wisp of smoke, coming from nowhere and just being absorbed by my skin. I follow it back to its source, sensing without seeing.

I’m somewhere outside, like an enclosed courtyard the size of a quidditch pitch. There’s grass, but my feet are on something hard and cool, like wood. My wrists and my neck rest uncomfortably on a wooden structure of some kind. I push up against it, finding myself trapped, like some old wooden pillory from the colonial times.

There’s a crowd of people milling about in front of me, many of whom are watching me and shouting. Some bold passerby runs up a set of stairs, disappearing behind my line of vision. There’s a howl of pain from somewhere to my right, and I feel a rush of pity, mixed with a bit of guilt. He continues shouting, and the bitter smell of blood fills the air. The howling starts now on my right, and I can feel the tears on my face as the scent of blood grows stronger. Suddenly, the man runs up in front of my face. He reaches out and touches my face, smearing something warm and wet all over my face. I gag, realizing it’s blood. The crowd shrieks with laughter as blood gets into my mouth and I vomit. I watch the red-tinted liquid splash down on the floor in front of me and feel an intense wave of shame. All I want is for someone to rescue me. I imagine Scorpius running into the courtyard, pulling me out of my restraints and carrying me back home.

“Scorpius,” someone shouts, pulling me out of my reverie. I had lost myself in Rose’s mind, thinking of myself in third person. “Hey, Scorp, come on man, I have to get in there,” someone shouts, banging on the door. I quickly hop into the shower, throwing my clothes on the floor. With a wave of my wand, the door unlocks.

“Come in,” I say, my voice hoarse. I open my mouth to let the water in and swallow, but all I can taste is blood.


	40. Chasing Our Tails

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Don’t storm away from everyone. We’re your mates and we want to help you, talk to you. You can’t just pretend you’re fine.” He pulls me closer, whispering, “I hear you screaming in your nightmares, and a lot of the time you’re screaming her name. You’re not fine, mate, so stop lying to yourself.” I yank my arm out of his hands and start towards the door.

**Chapter 40: Chasing Our Tails**

  
  


“Scorp, can we talk to you?” Nora asks. I’m slumped against the window behind the bookshelves, staring out the window, my head resting against the glass. I turn to look at her. Her hair is a shade of red very similar to Rose’s, but with more hints of brown. She has her arms folded over her chest, but she looks more scared than angry.

“Who’s ‘we’?” I grunt, standing.

“Rose’s other friends. It’s not just you, Hols, and that Amber girl. We all miss her,” she says, leading me up to her room. When I get there, everyone is sitting on their beds, and Amber is sitting with Holly. I immediately look to go sit with Rose, but find myself sitting on an empty bed. I look up and they’re all looking at me like a dog outside in the rain.

“What do you want?” I ask.

“We just wanted to… talk to you about Rose. We want to know what’s going on, where they think she is, and how… well, how you’re doing,” Amy states.

“I can’t talk specifics about what’s going on, nobody has any idea where she is, and I’m doing just fine. Can I go now?” I grunt.

“No,” Amber says, grabbing my arm to stop me from standing up.

“We can’t talk specifics, but we can give general information. Scorp, they’re her friends, too,” Holly hisses at me.

“Somebody took her, and we don’t know his name. He’s a criminal, and he’s got this freaky obsession with her. She got angry with us early one morning and took off. He snatched her, and now she’s gone. No one knows where she is. I don’t think even she knows where she is. I’m still doing fine. Can I go  _ now _ ?” I explain, sighing.

“You’re not fine, Scorp, and that’s okay,” Sam says. I jump, but everyone else seems nonplussed to see him leaning against the bathroom door.

“Don’t be annoying, mate. Just shove off. I’m going back downstairs,” I grumble, pushing off the bed. He lunges across the room, grabbing me by my arm.

“Don’t storm away from everyone. We’re your mates and we want to help you, talk to you. You can’t just pretend you’re fine.” He pulls me closer, whispering, “I hear you screaming in your nightmares, and a lot of the time you’re screaming her name. You’re not fine, mate, so stop lying to yourself.” I yank my arm out of his hands and start towards the door. When I swing it open, there’s a girl standing there, fist in the air poised to knock. She looks up at me and her face blanches. Realizing it’s my scowl that’s scaring her, I smile.

“Can I help you?” I ask.

“I-I-I was sent up here t-to find Scorpius M-malfoy,” she stutters.

“That’s me. What can I do for you?”

“P-p-professor Vastra wants t-to s-s-see you,” she says, looking down at the floor.

“Alright, thank you. Sorry if I frightened you when I opened the door,” I smile, kneeling down to look at her. “My mates are being right tossers and I was a bit mad with them. Have a nice day,” I tell her, loud enough so Sam can hear. I run down the stairs, elbowing my way through the crowded common room; it could pass as a moshpit at a rock concert.

“Ah, Mr. Malfoy. I’m sure Lucille told you I needed to speak with you urgently? Come with me to my office,” she said, turning on her heel. I follow close behind her, and Auror Jones meets us at the end of the hallway.

“Ah, Scorpius. I’m here to escort you to see the Headmaster. They’ve got a few ideas about how you can be of assistance,” she says, grinning.

“You think I can help? You think I can find her?” I ask, feeling my hopes swelling.

“Hang on, we have a few hypotheses. This is just a session to discuss our ideas and get your input. I’d also really like to witness what it’s like when you… sense her- sorry, I’m not sure if that’s the right phrase. I think seeing it will help me understand it more,” Professor Vastra interrupts. I can’t help but run towards Flitwick’s office; I can hear Jones and Vastra shouting for me to stop, but I have to get there, to help her.

“Bloody hell, Malfoy,” Vastra pants when we’ve reached the top of the staircase. “I wish it was possible for me to fail you for making me run like that.” I grin sheepishly, shrugging my shoulders.

“Had to get here,” I tell her. Jones just shakes her head, trying not to smile.

“Mr. Malfoy, please, come in,” I hear Flitwick say. I’d already opened the door before he started speaking.

“Sir, I’m here to help,” I tell him.

“We’re not sure if our ideas are actually possible. We wanted more information from you, and to see the… bond… in action,” Flitwick says slowly, talking to me as if I’m about to jump off a ledge. On second thought, if doing that would bring Rose back, I would do it in a heartbeat.

“I’ve gotten better at that, tuning into Rose. I can do it now, if you like,” I offer. I’ve been getting more feelings like that, where they aren’t mine. “I’ve felt like I had to, er, use the loo all day, but no matter how many times I, like, used it, the feeling didn’t go away. I think it’s Rose’s feeling, seeping into me. Watch,” I explain, closing my eyes. It takes me almost no time to find the feeling, the smoky wisp of… something, and nothing at the same time. I follow it back to where it leads, and find myself in that pillory again. It’s lighter now, but the sun is covered by clouds, threatening rain. 

“Stop fidgeting like that,” a voice hisses at me from somewhere behind me. There’s a surge of fear and guilt when I hear the voice. The voice is familiar to me; a memory flashes before me, him sinking his foot into my stomach, slamming my head against the wall, his screams of pain from last night. “If they know you have to take a piss, someone  _ will _ come over here and make you wet yourself. They  _ will _ call a big crowd over and you  _ will _ be humiliated. Try and stay still, and hold it until after curfew. When everyone is asleep, that’s the best time to do it because no one needs know,” the voice continues. I nod my head and whimper, trying to stop fidgeting.

“How ya doin, princess?” someone calls out, running up the steps. I flinch, fearing a slap, a pinch, the taste of blood. “You know the worst part of the stocks?” He leans in close enough for me to smell that he hasn’t bathed in days and whispers in my ear, “I have all the control.” He laughs in my ear and disappears behind me. I feel his hands on my hips, his lips kissing the back of my neck, my shoulders.

“Oi, mate, we messed with her and ended up here. Just a reminder that she’s the Alpha’s mate, before you make a big mistake,” the voice from behind me hisses.

“All’s fair in the stocks,” the man shrugs. He loops one finger into the waistband of my shorts and starts to pull them down. I kick my feet, but my need to pee is too strong. I cross one foot over the other and try to hold it in.

“No, mate, not with the Alpha’s mate. You touch her the way you touch any other girl who gets up here and you will be exiled, not just from the pack, but from the living, and you’ll be missing more than your tail between your legs, mate. Don’t make our mistake,” another voice calls out from behind me.

“You sure,” the man says, slowly working my shorts down. They’re around my knees now, and he’s fighting to get them lower, but my legs are locked tightly together.

“Take it from us, mate, the girl is forbidden fruit,” the first voice says. The man lets go of my shorts and comes around in front of me, leaning in closer.

“Fine, then. I’ll find some lower-hanging fruit. Have a nice day, love,” he spits at me. Before he leaves, he sucker punches me right in the stomach. I yelp, feeling the warm liquid trail down my legs. Someone shaking my arm,  _ my  _ arm not Rose’s, brings me out of my reverie.

“Oh, Mr. Malfoy, you’ve made a mess of yourself,” Professor Vastra sighs. I flush realizing that I had pissed myself.

“Sorry, I just sort of… do what Rose does. At least tell me it helped you?” I say. Auror Smith, who’d suddenly joined us, or perhaps not so suddenly seeing as I was MIA for a while in Rose’s mind, waves his wand, and suddenly I can feel my pants drying, a scent of fresh laundry filling the air.

“Potty training my girls,” he explains when I look at him questioningly, “and this is a spell we use on an almost daily basis.”

“Thanks,” I grunt, feeling better now that I’m dry and clean.

“Yes, it did help. Tremendously, actually,” Professor Vastra explains. “Now that I’ve seen it in action, I can work on figuring it out, how to use it to help us. But I also need some background on your relationship with her to figure out its application in real life, normal, everyday life.”

“Bring it on,” I tell her, settling into a seat.

 

“Hey, um, guys? Thanks for, well, that. For helping me with that, er, that guy before,” I whisper.

“No problem,” one voice grunts.

“Can I ask you guys, um, who’s voice is whose? Just so I can stop thinking of you guys as ‘one guy’ and ‘the other guy?’” I ask.

“I’m Alfie, on your left. I had the red hair, I was the one who kicked you, said you weren’t worthy of being the Alpha’s mate, and slammed your head against the wall,” the same voice says.

“And that makes me Lucas, on your right. I have black hair, I was the one who kicked you when you were a dog, egged Alfie on, and had the idea to, er, visit you,” the other voice says.

“Why?” I ask, my voice breaking. “I’d never even seen you before. So, um, why did you do that to me?”

“Rose, you have to know it wasn’t about you personally,” Alfie starts. “I know that with the, um, things we said it probably seemed pretty personal, like we hated you. We don’t.”

“This is something that we do to everyone, all the cubs,” Lucas continues. “Beta Kessler told us it’s a tradition that started when he was a cub, or something. You rattle the cage of a cub, fight them, rough them up a little. He said it made us stronger wolves. And…” he trails off.

“And Beta Kessler told us we needed to make you, specifically, stronger as a wolf. He told us to come to your room, say you were pathetic, unworthy, rough you up. He said you let Carlie beat you, so you needed to learn to stand up for yourself,” Alfie explains.

“I just-”

“Hush, someone’s coming,” Lucas hisses. I stop talking, drop my head as I hear voices approaching.

“Oi, looks like it’s time we taught some rogue family members the rules!” someone shouts. I lift my head up to see a group of older people, maybe mid-twenties. It’s evenly split, guys and girls. When I think about it, it’s probably mated couples having a night out. They stumble forward drunkenly, and I can smell the alcohol seeping through their pores.

“Yeah, you’re the little black wolves of our family,” one girl laughs, coming closer. “And you’d better get back in the line.” One of the guys goes behind us and I can hear him rustling around on a table. I guess, during punishments, the Alpha and his Betas leave out some… toys… for the pack to play with: bats, whips, knives, basically anything that can be used to hurt us, and punish us.

“Oho, this?” one girl laughs.

“Oh yeah, she’s been a very, very bad girl,” a guy laughs. I start to shake; I’m the only ‘she’ and I really don’t know if I can handle whatever they’re about to do. I hear laughing, then a whistling sound as something slices through the air. The moment it hits my legs, it feels like a knife, opening my flesh in a few places. My screams pierce the night sky.

“Oh, naughty girl likes it, does she?” one of the guy laughs, coming around to the front. He’s holding a knife, getting close to my face. “Do it again, Lucien,” he says, smiling. “I wanna see her face.” I could choke on the scent of whiskey on his breath, muggle whiskey, which mum swears is ten times stronger than firewhiskey. The whip whistles through the air again, this time cracking against my back. As I scream in pain, he grabs my face, squeezing my cheeks in his hand.

“Oh, Quacy,” one girl sighs. I whimper as he squeezes harder, and I can feel the warmth of my own blood on my back. he brings the knife up to my face, tracing the outline of my lips.

“One more time, Luc, but let me do it. You gotta see her face,” he laughs, dropping the knife with a clatter. He leaves, his face replaced by another, Lucien, I suppose. This time, when the whip whistles through the air, I know what to expect, but I can’t stop myself from screaming.

“God, that’s good,” the man in front of me laughs. I’m crying in earnest now, and the girl hanging on Lucien’s arm looks a little sad.

“Let’s go have some fun with one of the others,” she suggests, pulling him away to someone else. I can still hear them behind me, hear the grunts and screams of Alfie and Lucas as the clubs, bats, and knives find their mark, so I try to stop crying, or at least stop making noise. I bite my tongue so hard I taste blood in my mouth.

“That’ll teach them not to be so naughty next time,” they finally laugh as they get ready to leave. One of them slaps my ass as he walks by. “Night, love,” he grins, winking. As they walk away, I hear someone shout, “let’s go get  _ knackered!” _ Like they weren’t drunk enough already.

“Rose,” Lucas whispers. “Hurts like hell, but you can’t cry now. Everyone’s watching. You may not see them, but they watch. Cry now, and you’ll seem weak.” I can hear the pain in his voice.

“I don’t give a damn if I seem weak. I’m bleeding, covered in my own piss, starving, and my mouth feels like cotton. I want to sleep, I want to go home, and I want my mum. Maybe that makes me weak here, but I don’t give a damn. I just want to go home,” I sob angrily. They don’t respond. I can feel the puddle of blood growing around my feet, and it starts to make me feel dizzy. Tears splash down, mingling with the blood. “I just want to go home,” I whisper.

 

“Damn,” I grunt. “We have to get her out of there. Now,” I tell the Aurors.

“Well, I may have figured out a way,” Professor Vastra grins.


	41. Answers and Questions

**Chapter 41: Answers and Questions**

  
  


“Let’s do it. Do it now,” I say, jumping up. We’d been in the middle of asking questions when I suddenly fell over, feeling the crack of a whip on my legs.

“No, listen, I need a bit of time to really work out the practicals. Right now it’s just a theory,” Professor Vastra says quickly.

“Well, tell me about the theory. Maybe I can help you work some stuff out,” I offer eagerly. She grins condescendingly, like I’m a toddler asking if I can help mummy make dinner.

“No offense, Mr. Malfoy, but you don’t exactly have the technical background in this area,” she says lightly.

“A fresh pair of eyes and a youthful perspective can offer insight that wisdom and age may have missed,” Flitwick adds delicately.

“Alright, fine. We can have a groupthink about it, yeah? So, you were telling us about how sometimes, when Rose had a nightmare, you’d know. You’d wake up, and run over to her room, and the stairs wouldn’t turn into a slide. Why?” she asks, pacing the room. “He thought he was saving her, yeah? And that’s one occurrence in which the stairs won’t slide, when a girl is in trouble.”

“But it was like I was being  _ pulled _ to her, like, I didn’t even know where I was going or why. My body was on pilot and I just, like, had to get to her,” I continue.

“And based on the way that the bond formed and what we saw, it seems to be a literal link, pulling them together,” Vastra says.

“I heard a story once, Rose’s dad told us something about the war. They were on the run, and they had a fight, or something. He left, but he wanted to come back. He felt like he  _ needed _ to come back. There was this…  _ thing _ … I don’t quite remember this part of the story, but it helped Mr. Weasley apparate to where Harry and his wife were, even though he didn’t know where they were exactly. Could we… use this something like that?” I ask.

“Ah, I believe he’s talking about your Deluminator, Albus,” Flitwick nods. I turn to look up at Dumbledore’s portrait.

“Yes, that is how Ronald found his way back to them, but my device was just a facilitator. It didn’t do anything except provide a, oh, what’s that Muggle contraption, GPS? I’m not sure it’ll work the same way in this situation. And either way, the Deluminator is no longer in my possession,” he explains. The entire room was silent, and I had the strange urge to take notes on what he just said.

“But that sounds like what we need! A GPS is the thing that gives directions, right? Finds things? Well, maybe it’ll help me find her!” I shout excitedly. “I bet Mr. Weasley still has it, we can go find him now!”

“No, that’s not what we need. The deluminator created a bond between Mr. Weasley and his friends. You already have the bond, you need the mode of transportation, or, oh, I don’t know how to describe it, but the deluminator probably isn’t what we’re looking for,” Professor Vastra says.

“Oh, can’t we at least try? I mean, it can’t hurt,” I continue.

“Yes, actually, it can,” Professor Vastra shouts. “As you know, this is a time-sensitive mission we’re on! We can’t go around chasing the hare-brained theories of a child!” There’s silence in the room, and I bow my head, looking at my shoes. I can hear her sigh. “Mr. Malfoy, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped at you. I just… don’t like not knowing the answers, especially when something so important is relying on me knowing them.” I don’t say anything, just continue staring at my shoes.

“Might I suggest a division of labor? Mr. Malfoy can work his theory, while Professor Vastra works hers. It saves more time than arguing about how to proceed,” Auror Jones suggests.

“Alright, sounds like a plan. I’m going to go confer with some colleagues of mine on how to proceed. Scorpius, I really am sorry I snapped at you,” she says, putting her hand on my shoulder. I nod in recognition of her apology and hear the door close as she leaves.

“Professor Flitwick, I’d really like to go see Mr. Weasley and get that Deluminator. Could I take the floo there?” I stand up.

“Oh, Mr. Malfoy, the school is on lockdown. I’m afraid it may not be safe,” he says quickly.

“I could escort him,” Auror Jones offers. “It may be safer now that Rose is… gone. She was his original target, so he may have withdrawn now that his mission is accomplished. Auror Smith and I were going to suggest restarting classes so that the other students can have some semblance of normalcy while we continue our search. Regardless, I can accompany Mr. Malfoy to the Weasley’s home to follow up on his theory.”

“You can’t start classes up again!” I protest. “That’s like saying you’re giving up on Rose, like you’re moving on without her!”

“That’s not up for discussion right now. I will revisit this topic later. At the moment, we are discussing the possibility of allowing you to go find the Deluminator,” Flitwick sighs.

“Please, sir, don’t move on without her. She’s Rose, she needs to be caught up in her classes when she comes back!”

“Mr. Malfoy!” he says sternly. “I am willing to allow you to go visit the Weasleys with Auror Jones. Ronald and Hermione were staying at the Burrow, last I checked. You may use my fireplace,” he continues calmly, gesturing to it. I know he’s only doing this to get me to stop arguing about starting classes, but at the moment I don’t care. I grin and nod, thanking him. I start to go through the fireplace first, but Auror Jones puts her hand out in front of me, stopping me.

“The Burrow,” she says confidently, disappearing in a swirl of emerald green. I wait a moment, grab a handful of powder, and toss it into the fire. “The Burrow,” I announce, watching the flames consume me.

 

“Ohhh,” I groan, opening my eyes, my vision blurry.

“Ah, good, you’re awake,” I hear Taylor say softly. When my vision clears, I see she’s kneeling on the ground in front of me. I starts to stretch, but my body is constrained by the wooden posts; I’m still in the stocks. “You lost so much blood that you passed out, and they got me to come heal you.”

“Then, how come everything still hurts?” I mumble, my throat thick with disuse.

“I… couldn’t heal your wounds. All I could do was replenish the blood you lost. You have to wait until after your punishment is over before I can heal you. Look, it’s just a little over sixteen more hours, so you’re getting there. I have to go,” she says quickly before turning around and running away.

“The Alpha’s pissed that you got so hurt,” I hear Alfie say.

“Why? Thought that was the point of this,” I laugh shortly. 

“You’re not supposed to die of blood loss. Especially not you,” Lucas snorts. “And they weren’t even supposed to put out the whip they used on you. It’s got, like, ten straps and it’s embedded with razor blades and spikes. It’s only used for the worst criminals.”

“Like who? Who deserves that?” I ask bitterly.

“People who challenge the leadership, directly or indirectly,” Alfie explains. I visualize him shrugging when he says this, he sounds so nonchalant. We stop talking when we hear a group of kids come running into the quad, laughing and playing. Three young boys, none of them much older than ten or eleven, run up onto the platform. They stand next to each of us, and I see the one next to me stick his finger in his mouth. I cringe, watching as he pulls it out, globules of spit dangling on it, and sticks it into my ear. They laugh, running away.

“Eugh, cubs,” Alfie groans. I roll my neck around, trying to get close enough to my hands to clean out my ear, but no such luck.

“Disgusting,” I groan. Suddenly. I hear a voice whispering,  _ Oh, Rose, what are they doing to you? _ “Hullo?” I shout, “Did you guys hear that?”

“Hear what?” 

“What are you talking about?”

“That voice,” I explain, craning my neck to find the speaker.  _ I’ll get you out of there _ , the voice says again. “Scorpius?” I whisper. Where is he? How is he here?

_ Oh, Rose, _ he sighs, and it’s like he’s right here beside me. I can see him in my mind, his shoulders drooped, his head cocked to the side, his eyebrows knitted together and the corner of his mouth turned down.  _ I have to get you out of there _ .

 

“Oh, Scorpius, so good to see you,” Nana Molly says, greeting me with a big hug. “Feeling a bit peckish? Sit down, dear, I can get you something to eat.”

“Oh, no, no, Nana Molly. I just need to find Mr. or Mrs. Weasley, Rose’s parents,” I assure her. I see her face blanche ever so slightly when I mention Rose’s name, but she quickly puts on a smile.

“Well, I can get you Hermione, easily, but Ronald will be a bit… harder to reach. Are you sure you’re not hungry?”

“No, I’m fine. Where can I find them?” She starts towards the kitchen, Auror Jones and I following at her heels.

“Hermione’s at work, at the Ministry. She’s been keeping her mind occupied. Better for her, really,” she says, rummaging through the cabinets.

“And Mr. Weasley? It’s really more him that I need to speak with,” I clarify. She glances over behind me, and I see the Weasley clock, or rather, the Granger-Weasley clock (since the expansion of the family, they’ve had to create new clocks for each family branch), sitting on a pile of newspapers, like she’s been carrying it around with her. Hermione’s hand points to “work,” and Hugo’s to “school,” as one would expect. Rose’s hand, most worryingly, points to “mortal peril.” But this doesn’t seem to be what she’s looking at; Mrs. Weasley’s eyes seem to be glued to Mr. Weasley’s silver handle, noticeably more worn than Rose’s, Hugo’s or Hermione’s, which points to “lost.”

“Why don’t you go speak with Hermione? I’m sure she can help you with whatever you need. Here, take this with you when you see her. Perhaps you can all chat over lunch,” she says distractedly, handing me a basket. She waves her wand and food starts flying from the cupboards into the basket, creating a picnic.

“Alright,” I say softly. “Thanks, Nana.” She squeezes me tightly.

“I miss her, too. But they’ll find her,” she whispers in my ear before she releases me. I nod, getting back into the floo.

 

“Rose? Damnit, did she pass out again?” Alfie shouts.

“No, no, I’m fine,” I grumble. Truthfully, I think I might have been unconscious. Maybe that would explain why I heard Scorpius’ voice.

“Well, you’ve been quiet for hours. You only have one more night, and tomorrow you’ll be let out,” Lucas reassures me.

“Yeah, can’t wait for that,” I groan. I can still feel the dried blood on my back and legs, the stale urine on my legs, and my shorts around my ankles. My tongue feels like sandpaper in my mouth, and my stomach gurgles angrily.

“Oh, looky, looky! Cub woke up from her nap, eh?” someone laughs. I moan, feeling my entire body beginning to tremble as the group walks towards me.

“Let’s have some fun!” another shouts. I feel the tears run down my cheeks as I hear them rummaging through the objects on the table.

_ Oh Rose, _ Scorpius sighs in my head.  _ I’m so sorry. I’m coming, soon. _ But not soon enough.

 

“Oh, I’m so sorry about that Mrs. Weasley. It was just an… episode,” I explain awkwardly, getting up from the floor. I had collapsed, trembling and crying out, lost in Rose’s head.

“I know,” she says gently, her face composed like a marble statue, completely neutral and unwavering. “Professor Flitwick informed me of the... nature… of your episodes.” Her face twitches. “And their relation to my… my Rose,” she says, her face crumpling at the end. She lets out a single sob, but then quickly recomposes herself. I feel so terrible for having done that to her, for showing her the pain Rose is going through.

“I’m sorry,” I apologize quickly. She holds up a hand to stop me from talking.

“Don’t apologize. You can’t help it.” She pauses and we just sit there. “Now, I know you didn’t get an Auror and leave Hogwarts just to have a picnic with me and visit Nana Molly. So, tell me, what did you need to see me about?” She takes a bite out of the corned beef sandwiches Nana sent.

“I need to find your husband. We have a theory about how I can find Rose, and we need his Deluminator, the one Dumbledore left to him when he died,” I say bluntly. No time to waste with idle chit-chat. “Do you know where it is?”

“Yes, of course I know where it is. It’s where it always is: with Ronald. He keeps it on a chain, around his neck, in his pocket, always with him. He says it reminds him that, no matter how dark it is, he knows where he can find the light,” she says fondly, smiling at the memory.

“Perfect! Where can I find him?” She looks down at the floor.

“I don’t know,” she admits quietly.


	42. The Beginning and the End

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Sometimes, when things are too much, Ronald takes off. He goes, gets out his frustration, and comes back. We’ve been through some… rough patches. We’d argue, and he’d go off to the woods or something, blow up some trees, and come back hours later. It was just… how he dealt with it. And this… situation… is worse than any argument we’ve ever had.” She pauses, taking a deep breath, as if steadying herself.

**Chapter 42: The Beginning and the End**

  
  
  


“What the hell do you mean you don’t know?!” I shout, jumping to my feet. “Oh, I’m sorry Mrs. Weasley. I didn’t mean to shout, I just… I’m sorry.”

“No, no, I understand. I’d react like that, too.” She laughs bitterly, “I don’t even know why I’m not reacting like that.” I sit back down, glancing back at Auror Jones, waiting patiently right outside the door.

“You don’t know where he is, and the Weasley-Granger clock said he’s ‘lost.’ When’s the last time you saw him?” I force a veneer of calm, to make up for my outburst.

“Sometimes, when things are too much, Ronald takes off. He goes, gets out his frustration, and comes back. We’ve been through some… rough patches. We’d argue, and he’d go off to the woods or something, blow up some trees, and come back hours later. It was just… how he dealt with it. And this… situation… is worse than any argument we’ve ever had.” She pauses, taking a deep breath, as if steadying herself.

“When we found out she was being stalked, he tried to help the Auror’s office. He had the training, you know, but left the ministry to work with George at the joke shop when the kids were young because he didn’t want to put them in danger. He just wanted to see more people smile,” she continues, her voice breaking. “But they couldn’t let him help; he was too close, it was too personal. He tried to rejoin, just to help them work unrelated cases so that he could feel like he was  _ doing _ something, but they said his judgment was too clouded. He’s been a bit… off since then.”

“Off?” I ask, not sure if I really want to hear the answer, but I know I need it if I’m going to help Rose.

“He was angry all the time, picking fights. He’d disappear for hours at a time, and the clock would always point to ‘lost.’ I started sleeping at the Burrow about a week ago so that I wouldn’t be so alone, and I started carrying the clock with me, so I would know when he was coming back to me. When we found out she was, ahem,  _ taken _ , he took off. I thought he was coming back, but he still hasn’t. I don’t know whether he’s… drunk and passed out in some pub, or off in the woods, making things blow up, or out there, hunting after him. But he hasn’t come back yet. So, I’m sorry, Scorpius, but you’ll have to find another way to find her.”

“Mrs. Weasley, I’ll find him, and then I’ll find her, okay? Have you asked the Aurors about this? Or someone who has experience with missing persons?” I ask gently. She laughs bitterly, wiping away her tears.

“I was afraid to ask the Aurors. I knew they’d throw everything they could into finding him, and that would take away from them finding Rose. Ridiculous, right? God, it feels like I’m saving my daughter at the expense of my husband,” she shouts, putting her head on her desk.

“I will find him,” I repeat quietly. And I know I shouldn’t make promises that I’ve no idea if I’ll be able to keep, but I can’t stand to see one of the strongest women I know cry. “I promise you, I will find him. And one I do, I’ll be able to find her, and I’ll bring her back to you, okay? And I’ll get Hugo here and you can have a right family picnic, yeah?” She laughs lightly, looking up.

“Alright, Scorpius. Thank you for the meal, but you should get back to school. I’ll see you soon, alright?” She ushers me out the door, hugging me tightly before I go.

“And just how are you planning on finding Mr. Weasley?” Auror Jones asks as we’re walking towards the fireplaces in the main hallway. I shrug.

“I’ve no idea,” I admit, “but I usually don’t, and things always seem to work out in the end.”

 

“Oh, God,” I whisper when I see more people filing into the courtyard. I would tense up in preparation for the blows to come, but there is nothing.

“Hey, look Rose,” Alfie hisses, “it looks like your two days are over.” I open my eyes, and look around. I don’t see small groups of drunken adults, or teens coming up to me with bloodlust in their eyes; I see hordes of people of all ages, from small children to middle-aged couples, who look at me with varying emotions: pity, loathing, disgust, curiosity, and yes, some bloodlust.

“But, that means it’s time for me to be… marked,” I say quietly, biting back the bile that rises to my throat.

“I’ve heard it hurts,” Lucas whispers.

“Lucas, shut up,” Alfie hisses.

“What? She should be prepared. But it’s probably not worse than anything she’s had to endure up here. That whip? She passed out, it was nasty. Compared to that, marking can’t feel much worse, right?” he continues.

“Quiet,” Beta Kessler growls. I flinch and hear him approaching from behind. He stops just behind me, so I still can’t see him; he knows how unnerving it is to be so vulnerable. “I see I’ve literally caught you with your pants around your ankles,” he sneers. I flush, remembering the man who did that, the feel of his hands on my body. I squirm, imagining Kessler’s hands doing the same a few nights ago. “You must be cold. Maybe I can help you with that.” 

“No, no, the cold doesn’t bother me,” I whimper.

“It’s no  _ sir _ ,” he whispers, and I can feel him leaning over me, covering me. 

“No, sir, I’m not cold,” I repeat quietly. It’s true; I haven’t felt cold or shivered for hours now. At first, that was the most unbearable part, feeling the cold chill bite through the air, but after a while, it just stopped. I know from the rudimentary amount of muggle first aid I’ve picked up that this isn’t a good sign.

“Kessler,” the Alpha barks. “Go find her den mother. After the marking ceremony, I’ll need a healer to nurse her back to health.” Kessler mutters something under his breath, but goes into the crowd anyways; he brushes my hair with his hand as he passes me.

“Hello, my dearest,” the Alpha whispers to me. I shudder, some strange noise escaping from my throat. “Ah, I’ve missed you, too. Fear not, we’ll be together again very,  _ very _ soon,” he continues, mistaking my noise of fear for one of longing and wrapping his arms around my torso, pressing his body against mine.

“My Lord, it’s time to start the ceremony, before the sun rises,” Beta Jacob reminds him gently. The Alpha makes a sound of agreement and I feel his body shift, hear the creak of the floorboards as he makes his way to the center of the platform, addressing his people.

“Brethren,” he shouts, getting the crowd’s attention. While I hadn’t been paying attention to the crowd, it had doubled in size, but they all quiet down immediately when he speaks; there’s not even a child crying. “The cub, Rose Weasley, has completed her forty-eight hours of punishment in the stocks. Is there anyone here who disagrees with her release?” For a moment, there’s silence.

“Yeah, I do,” someone pipes up. “You’ve given her special treatment since she’s your mate.”

“Voice your mind, brother. Special treatment? Give me an example,” the Alpha smiles good-naturedly.

“She was bleeding from some wounds, and you let the den mother heal her, give her potions. I was in the stocks once, and I was bleeding profusely. No one was allowed to heal me until after my punishment had ended,” the voice shouts again.

“A weapon had been… mistakenly left out. It caused more punishment than was justified. She was unconscious, bleeding out, and had nearly died from exsanguination. We only preserved her life, no more, no less. If you’d like to see, you can see the wounds from the weapon that caused the bleeding,” the Alpha says calmly. The voice doesn’t respond. “As I thought. Now, we begin with the marking ceremony.”

“All kneel,” the lighter-haired Beta shouts. As one, the entire group drops to one knee. “We will now hear from the pack member about his mate, and why she is a good candidate for pack life.”

“When I was young, I was lost in the world, searching for my fire, my reason to fight, to work hard, and to become Alpha. I was not destined for greatness,” he begins. Though he speaks loud enough for the entire crowd to hear, he keeps his eyes trained on me. “Greatness found me, in the form of a small, red-headed, pale infant, crying on the streets of Paris. My life began that day.” He looks at me with something that strongly resembled love for just a moment, then addresses the crowd. “She inspired greatness, forced it into me, as a pup. Just imagine the greatness and the changes she can bring about now! We will become stronger, more powerful, and more of a  _ pack _ than ever before with her at my side. And for that, I mark her not just with my scent, and my power, I mark her with a symbol: the sign of the Alpha and the Omega, because she is my beginning, and I will love her until the end.”

Were he not a psychotic werewolf holding me captive, locked in the stocks, bleeding, bruised, and half-naked, I would have been touched at the speech. It sounded like a wedding toast. I was just marvelling at the juxtaposition of such beautiful words and sentiments in a place so filled with violence, intimidation, despair, and fear when I felt it.

I don’t think I’ll ever be able to describe quite what it felt like. All I know is that it was like my entire body was on fire. The skin on my back was being ripped from my spine, one cell at a time. There was a loud ringing in my ears, which I later learned was the sound of my screams, and I could hear my heartbeat racing in every fiber of my being; I’m pretty sure I felt my heartbeat thrumming in my toes. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the yanking and scraping stopped.

“And so, she has been marked. Let it be known that on this day, on the twenty-first day of January, the pack grew by one member, and our Alpha has taken his Luna,” Beta Jacob, the lighter-haired one, announces. It sounds like I’m underwater, struggling to hear him. I hear the starts of a mighty cheer, but then the lights fade and I’m left alone in the darkness.

 

“Damnit,” I hear Flitwick mutter. I don’t think I’d ever heard Flitwick swear before this whole mess, and it was unnerving. “I don’t think we can help him, or the Healers at St. Mungo’s. This is just like last time, right after Rose was taken. He’ll be unconscious until she wakes up.”

“Professor, you didn’t hear him screaming,” I whisper quietly, holding Scorpius’ hand. Were it not for the warmth radiating from him, I would have feared he was dead. “I’ll never forget that sound. No one from Ravenclaw will,” I continue. He had come back from the Ministry and was sitting in the common room with us, explaining everything. We stayed up all night, making plans and trying to figure out where Mr. Weasley would be. Then, just after sunrise, when people had started filtering down from the dorms, he fell flat to the floor and started screaming. He had tears running down his cheeks, and his face turned red from the force of his screams. Suddenly, everyone was running down the stairs, trying to find the danger. All they could find was Scorpius, thrashing and crying out on the floor. No one knew what to do; we all just stood in a circle around him until suddenly, he stopped screaming. He was panting and whimpering, like he was still in pain, and his eyes were a million miles away. He looked right through me, and then he passed out.

“No, no you will not. But for now, there is nothing more we can do. Madame Pomfrey will keep Mr. Malfoy comfortable until he… wakes up. I will have Auror Jones return you and Miss Wells here to the common room,” he says with a sidelong look at Amber. She’s curled up under a chair, sitting right at the edge of bed. She rocks back and forth, her eyes vacant and glassy.

“I bet it was the marking,” she mumbles, over and over again. “The marking, he marked her. It’s the only thing that could cause that much pain.”

“Marking? What is that?” I ask, dropping down to the floor beside her. She doesn’t even look at me.

“He took her as his mate. Big ceremony, the whole pack there. He makes an appeal to allow the mating, pack accepts. He marks her as his own. It’s the only thing that could cause that much pain,” she whispers, then continues to repeat, “the only thing.”

“Does that mean he… Did he… How does the marking process happen?” I finally ask.

“It’s physical, with his claws. He scars her, like her Uncle Bill. The scar is like… a bond. His scent and his power are now a part of her, and she belongs to him. He had to have marked her. Oh God, he marked her,” she whispers, her voice breaking. She rocks back and forth, tears falling down her cheeks.

“Miss Brookes, you can’t do anything for him now. Go back to your dormitory,” Flitwick repeats, putting a hand on my shoulder. I jerk away from him and move closer to Scorpius, clutching his hand.

“I’m staying,” I tell him, resting my chin on my knees. Scorpius looks pained even in sleep- unconsciousness, coma, whatever the hell it is- and I’m not leaving him when he’s in pain.

“There’s nothing you can  _ do _ ,” Flitwick says insistently.

“We’re staying,” I repeat. He sighs and I hear him walking away.

“The only thing… So much pain… The sounds…” Amber continues to mutter, rocking back and forth. Rose and Scorp are both unconscious, Scorp is seeing visions and hearing voices, Rose is held captive by a psycho, and Amber is catatonic, rocking back and forth and mumbling. When I’m the only sane one in our group, there is a problem. But of course, that’s the least of our problems for now.

“So much pain… the screaming… Nothing I can do…” Amber continues. She goes on like this for hours, ignoring the food that is set out at mealtimes, the visits from Healers and Aurors and Scorp’s family and teachers. She keeps mumbling, and rocking back and forth. She’s still doing this when Scorpius finally opens his eyes.


	43. Finding the Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Rest, my love. Give the potion its time, and when you wake tomorrow, you’ll be stronger than ever,” he whispers. I feel him kiss the top of my head gently, like mum used to do when I was sick. I close my eyes, hoping to dream of her.

**Chapter 43: Finding the Lost**

  
  


“Mmmm,” I groan, in too much pain to open my eyes. My back no longer feels like it’s a raging bonfire; now it’s just a dull, slow burn, like the dying embers of a fire. I groan again, trying to stretch out.

“No, no, no,” a hushed voice whispers. “Don’t move; it’ll only make it worse. Shhh, here, take a sip. The pain will get better over time, I swear.”

“Taylor?” I mumble, summoning the strength to open my eyes. Even the dim lighting of my room is too much; it burns my eyes.

“Yeah, now, take a sip. It’ll help, I promise.” She coaxes the spoon into my mouth, and it’s filled with something sweet, like honey. It makes me think of summertime, running in the fields surrounding the Burrow, the ground beneath my paws, and playing chase with a big black dog, Scorpius. I can feel the sun on my face, the wind in my fur, and the freedom of just being able to  _ run _ . Afterward, I realized that the pain had subsided to a minor ache.

“What was that?” I ask. The light doesn’t seem to hurt my eyes so much anymore. I look around as much as I can while I’m laying on my belly, facing the wall, so I really don’t see much, just Taylor kneeling by my head, grinning at me.

“Special potion. It uses one of the world’s most powerful forces to heal you,” she explains, backing up so that she’s out of my line of sight. I try to turn to see more of the room, but the movement causes the fiery pain in my back to flare up. 

“No, no, my dearest. Don’t move yet. The potion I created for you hasn’t had enough time yet,” the Alpha whispers, and I can feel his hand on my shoulder. Out of the corner of my eye, I see blood embedded under his nails; he hasn’t even bothered to wash my blood off of his hands before he came in to see me.

“You made it?” I ask quietly, trying not to shudder.

“Of course. Like Taylor said, it uses one of the most powerful forces in the world to heal you: love.” I moan, and he takes his hand off my shoulder. “I’m sorry, that probably hurt you. Are you hungry, babe? Thirsty? I bet you’re cold, but I can’t put a blanket over your back until the mark has healed. By this time tomorrow, you’ll be up and running again.”

“Thirsty,” I groan, trying to swallow. My throat crackles with pain, and he raises a goblet to my lips. In my mind’s eye, I remember a nightmare I had once had about the Alpha, his friends forcing me to drink bleach to purify me. I’m tempted to resist his offering, in case it is something terrible, but I’m too thirsty to try.

“That’s my girl,” he says proudly as I gulp down the water. It’s like a gift from God sliding down my throat. “More?” I nod feverishly. He continues to feed me water until I can feel it all sloshing in my belly. I want more, but he just chuckles. “Don’t drink too much too fast. Have something to eat,” he suggests, feeding me a handful of berries.

“So, did you feel it?” He finally asks. I yawn.

“Feel what?” I ask sleepily.

“The power, the power in the mark,” he says, getting excited. “That was where the pain came from. When I marked you, it doesn’t just transfer my scent, it transfers some of my power to you. You’ll be stronger, faster, and more wolf-like from it, like me. It hurt because your body wasn’t prepared to accept that kind of strength.” I roll my eyes: pretty sure it was the claws being dug into my skin that caused the pain, not his strength. “Did you feel it?” he asks again.

“I… Yeah,” I finally croak out, yawning. “It was so… so strong.”

“Rest, my love. Give the potion its time, and when you wake tomorrow, you’ll be stronger than ever,” he whispers. I feel him kiss the top of my head gently, like mum used to do when I was sick. I close my eyes, hoping to dream of her.

 

“Mmmm, ow,” I groan, in too much pain to open my eyes. “Where am I?” I ask, squinting against the lights.

“Oh, Scorp,” I hear Holly cry out. She lunges towards me, wrapping her arms around me, and I can feel her sobbing.

“Ow, Hols, that burns,” I wince, and she gets off of me. The burning doesn’t stop, but I can feel it concentrated in my back, like someone is spit-roasting me over a flame. I roll over on my stomach, hoping to find some relief.

“Ms. Brookes, look out. Let me in,” I hear Madame Pomfrey yell, bustling in. “Why did you move him?”

“I moved myself, ma’am. Back hurts,” I mumble, my voice muffled by the pillow. I feel her cut away my shirt and gasp.

“What is that?” Holly whispers.

“The mark of the Alpha,” Amber whispers hoarsely. I crane my neck, trying to see what they’re looking at. There’s a loud clicking sound and a flash of light.

“Someone get Flitwick, and Auror Jones. Now,” Madame Pomfrey says sternly. “Now! Brookes, go, and take Wells with you,” she orders when no one moves. “Moore, get me a cloth and essence of dittany. Mr. Malfoy, stop moving.”

“I have to see it,” I groan, gritting my teeth.

“I know, so here, take a look,” she says grimly, handing me a polaroid. I see my back, or what looks like my back. I see the dimples at the base of my spine, the birthmark near my upper left shoulder, but there’s something new. Angry, raised, red markings, fresh wounds. They’re concentrated in the center of my back, two large Greek letters, the Alpha and Omega, the mark of the Alpha on my back.

“Bloody hell,” I groan, as the black spots in my vision grow and take over, and I fall back into the darkness.

 

“I don’t understand, what happened? How did he get that, that, scar?” I hear my mum whispering.

“Mum?” I groan.

“Oh Scorpius, my dove,” she says softly, kneeling by my bedside. She strokes my hair gently, like she used to do when I was sick. “Dad and I came in as soon as we heard. How are you feeling?”

“Thirsty.”

“Let me do it, please, Astoria,” I hear my Dad whisper. I open my eyes and see him holding a ladle of water. He lifts it to my lips and I sip at it weakly. “Oh, Scorpius, what happened?”

“It’s the bond,” I groan, standing up. “I have to go. I have to find Mr. Weasley.” I yelp when I stand straight up, and the world starts to spin.

“Mr. Malfoy, lie down,” Madame Pomfrey says sternly. I collapse back onto the bed and sigh as someone slathers something on my back. It draws out the pain, leaving only the taste of honey in my mouth; I’m not entirely sure why, since the last time I had honey was probably over the summer break.

“What do you mean  _ find _ Mr. Weasley? I just saw him,” Dad says, his face scrunching up in confusion.

“What? Where?” I ask, propping myself up on my elbows.

“He was wandering around Diagon Alley with some ridiculous light blue jumpsuit,” Dad says derisively.

“Take me there. I have to get him, please,” I beg.

“Mr. Malfoy, you are not well,” Madame Moore says gently.

“I need him, please! Dad, can you go get him! Please, I need him. I need him,” I shout, grabbing at Dad’s jacket. Someone puts their hands on my shoulders, forcing me down. I scream; their touch is like acid on my back.

“Mr. Malfoy, calm down,” Madame Pomfrey shouts. I don’t stop shouting, repeating, “I need him! I need to find Mr. Weasley!” Eventually, I feel someone jab me with something sharp, and the fight goes out of me. I realize I’m tired, and I feel all the tension leave my muscles.

“Calming Draught injection. Couldn’t risk him injuring himself more. Now, why the hell does he need Mr. Weasley?” Her voice sounds far away, like I’m in a tunnel.

“I don’t know,” Dad says, his voice getting even farther away. “But I’m going to find out. Astoria, let me know when he wakes up.” Wakes up? But I’m not asleep, I remember thinking to myself. Oh wait, maybe I am, I think, feeling everything slipping farther away.

 

“Rose, come on, you need to eat. Wake up,” a voice whispers. I open my eyes, grinning stupidly.

“Oh Hols, breakfast in bed? You spoil me,” I whisper. “It’s not even my birthday yet.”

“No, no, it’s Taylor, Rose. Come on now, time to eat,” the voice whispers again. Taylor? There was no one in Ravenclaw named Taylor. Who is… Oh. Taylor. 

“Thought I had to fight for food,” I reply, not bothering to open my eyes.

“Special circumstances. Eat,” she orders. I sigh, propping myself on my elbows. I stretch, rolling my shoulders, and find that my back doesn’t hurt so much anymore.

“Bacon?” I ask, inhaling the scent. Normally, it’s not my go-to breakfast food. I prefer something lighter, like toast, but at the moment, all I want is sausage and bacon. “You didn’t burn it, did you?” She laughs.

“No, no, it’s not burned. Here, eat,” she says, smiling. I don’t even look at it, just shove fistfuls of bacon into my mouth, until there’s nothing more on the plate. 

“That was good,” I nod. With some effort, I pull myself up into a sitting position, facing Taylor. I draw my knees up to my chest and hold a blanket in front of me, covering myself up.

“Sorry about that,” she apologizes. “I had to take your clothes off so that the mark could heal better. By tonight, it should be healed over enough for you to put on a loose top.”

“Where’s your mark?” I ask quietly.

“My chest,” she replies promptly. “He and I agreed that it was the right place, an intimate place. It’s right near my heart, just like he is,” she grins happily.

“You really love him,” I marvel. I’d always understood these packs as sort of… Stockholm Syndrome breeding grounds full of unhappiness and violence, but she seems really happy. “What does yours look like? Like mine is… um, the, uh, symbolism thing. Do all people, er, wolves, um, do that?”

“Yeah, no. I’ve actually never seen that before. It’s usually more like just a scratch. See, look, mine is just three lines. Quite simple,” she says, pulling her shirt down. Her scars have faded, and they’re pink now, like they’re just a part of her, like she was born with it.

“Huh,” I say quietly.

“You know, I don’t think he really believes that you were trying to run away,” she says very seriously. “He just, he had to punish you, you know? It’s pack law, and he can’t very well doubt his Beta! He felt guilty that you got so hurt, you know. He was so distraught when he saw you like that, he found the guy who did it, and excommunicated him and all of his friends. They’re rogues now.”

“Rogues?” I whisper.

“Wolves without a pack,” she explains. “They have to fight for themselves now, or join the muggle world,” she snickers. I sit up straight and try to take a deep breath, feeling the panic coming on. My skin itches, and I need to  _ go _ . Where I need to go, I don’t know, but it’s urgent that I get there  _ now _ .

“I have to, I’m sorry Taylor, I have to go. I have to… I can’t… breathe here. I have to go,” I say quickly, getting short of breath.

“No, no, no, no,” she hisses, grabbing my arm. She swings me around and pushes me back onto the bed. I fight her, whimpering and hyperventilating. I have to get out. I have to go… somewhere. “Just… Rose, let me, stop fighting. Go to sleep,” she says, looking back at the door every few seconds.

“Can’t sleep,” I pant, and I can feel myself starting to cry.

“Shhh,” she whispers. “I’m sorry, I have to do this.” She raises her wand, but I have to go, to go somewhere. I can’t be here, and that wand will make me stay. I fight harder, and there’s a flash of light then, only darkness.

 

“Scorpius, wake up. Hey, Malfoy,” I hear a voice shout, shoving my shoulder.

“Ronald,” someone scolds. Ronald. Ronald, as in Weasley, as in Rose’s dad, the one who has the Deluminator that could possibly help me find Rose. My eyes fly open.

“Mr. Weasley, I’ve been looking for you,” I say hoarsely, wincing as I realize I’d been laying on my back. I sit up quickly, ignoring the room spinning.

“I heard that,” he chuckles. “Sorry about that, I got a little… tied up. I was out… uh, getting a tad  _ inebriated _ in the Muggle world. Tried to apparate, ended up splinching myself,” he explains sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. I can see the tips of his ears turning red. “Muggles took me to their hospital and I was unconscious for days until the Ministry found me and got me out of there. So, uh, Hermione says you need my Deluminator?” I quickly explain everything to him: the bond, the visions, the theories about finding her, and how I think the Deluminator would help. He just chuckles.

“That’s what I’d been trying to do when I splinched myself,” he says softly. “It brought me back once, and I figured it could do it again.”

“Please, sir, I need to find her. I’ll bring it back to you if you just… just let me borrow it. Even if it doesn’t work and I end up splinching myself so bad I end up in St. Mungo’s without a head for a week, I need to try,” I beg, my voice breaking. He narrows his eyes at me suspiciously. Hermione, who had been sitting quietly in the background until this point, swatted his arm. 

“Ronald,” she hisses.

“I don’t like how desperate he is,” he whispers, turning to face her. “He’s just… She’s a kid, and he’s a kid, and they can’t be so…”

“Ronald Weasley, we will worry about this  _ later _ , after we get our daughter back,” she hisses scathingly. He reluctantly turns around, looking me up and down.

“Here. Bring it back  _ only _ when you’ve got my daughter,” he threatens, handing me a small silver object, like a lighter.

“Thank you, sir,” I say, nodding at him. I stand up and click the Deluminator open.

“No, Scorpius, you can’t go  _ now _ . You have to talk to Flitwick about- no, no  _ no! _ Do  _ not _ follow that pulsing blue orb. Do  _ not _ apparate away from me while I am talk-” Mrs. Weasley’s shrill protests are cut off as I spin on the spot, losing myself in the darkness.


	44. The Rescuers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suddenly, everything in me is telling me to run, to run in that direction, towards nothing, as far as I can see. But all I know is that Rose is in that direction. I pause a moment, and try to think of a spell to help me remember this location, something to flag this spot as the place where I can find her, but nothing comes to mind. The only thought I have is to find her, to run to her. So I do. I stop trying to identify where I am, and I just run.

**Chapter 44: The Rescuers**

  
  


“Oh, my God,” I mumble. I touch down in the middle of the woods, and realize I’m standing on pine needles and snow with no shoes, no socks, and just a pair of thin hospital wing pyjama pants and a tattered shirt, shredded and barely there. “Oh, God it’s cold. Umph,” I grunt, feeling a pull in my gut. Suddenly, everything in me is telling me to run, to run in  _ that  _ direction, towards nothing, as far as I can see. But all I know is that Rose is in  _ that _ direction. I pause a moment, and try to think of a spell to help me remember this location, something to flag this spot as the place where I can find her, but nothing comes to mind. The only thought I have is to find her, to run to her. So I do. I stop trying to identify where I am, and I just  _ run. _

 

“Oh, my God,” I mumble, opening my eyes. There’s no one else in the room; Taylor’s gone, and the only sign of the Alpha is the scar on my back. I find myself running my hand over it, surprised that now it just barely stings, rather than burns like an inferno. I find a loose white top at the end of my bed and tentatively pull it over my head. I don’t know what woke me up, but I put my head back on the pillow and dream that I’m running.

 

After a few minutes of running, ignoring the stabbing pain in my feet, I come across a group of buildings. I know this must be where he has her, and the pull to find her is stronger than ever. I cautiously sniff the air, and listen for footsteps of those around me.

“Yeah, I heard he excommunicated them all,” one voice says, just a few hundred yards away from me.

“Nah, I heard he whipped them with the thing they used on her and left them for dead in the woods,” another voice responds. They continue arguing about this and I hear their footsteps retreat. I move closer.

All of the buildings are connected by bridges and hallways, so I open a random door, hoping it isn’t alarmed. I thank the gods that werewolves dislike muggle technology as much as wizards do, leaving the door unalarmed. The halls are dirty, and the floors cold on my bare feet, but none of this matter. The pull just got stronger, and so I follow it to my right, into a building. I find a hallway full of plain, wooden doors. Each has about four locks that I can see, all on the outside. I hear the noises of children and young people inside: babies crying, kids snoring, teens pacing the floor. I want to stop, open every door and soothe every crying child, but the pull to Rose is too strong. I run down the hall, slowing only when I hear others, ducking into doorways and down other hallways.

Finally I end up in front of just another, plain, unmarked door, all the locks sealed from the outside. But I know that Rose is in there. I don’t know how to explain it, but I just  _ knew _ . So, I ease the door open. She’s curled up in a ball on a rickety old bed with a rusted metal frame. There’s nothing else to the room, and she doesn’t even have a blanket. I can see the goosebumps rising on her arms. I take a quick look around, listening for people nearby. When no one is near, I lean over and scoop her up.

“Time to go home, Rosie,” I whisper, turning and running down the hall with her. I make it all the way out the hall, and out the door, just about to run through the forest with her, when I sense something’s wrong.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing with my mate?” a voice growls from behind me. I turn and take a few steps back. Standing before me is the man from the pictures, the Alpha.

“Mmmm, what’s happening?” Rose groans, stirring in my arms.

“Crap,” I mutter softly, trying to think my way out of this.

 

“Oh, hi Scorp,” I smile sleepily up at him. He’s cradling me close to his chest- his  _ bare _ chest.

“Put her down,” a deep voice growls.

“No,” Scorpius replies, his voice getting deeper. He pulls me closer against him, and his chest seems to radiate warmth, keeping me from shivering, even though the snow is just starting to fall.

“No, don’t put me down. ‘S warm up here,” I smile, closing my eyes.

“Rose,” the first voice growls. Suddenly, it dawns on me why that voice is so familiar, and inspires such fear. My eyes open slowly and I look over at him.

“I’ll be fine, Scorp. Just put me on the ground, now,” I say gently. He puts me on the ground, and the adrenaline starts to course through me, and I can ignore the cold on my feet, and the pine needles and twigs stabbing me. The Alpha starts towards me, but I back up closer to Scorpius. “No, you have to promise me something first. You need to let him go, safely.”

“He’s trespassing. Attempting to take my mate. He deserves to  _ die _ ,” he snarls.

“No,” I say firmly, reaching behind me to grab Scorpius’ hands. “He’s my friend. If you want me to stay here, and be happy with you, I have to trust you. I have to trust that you won’t hurt the people I care about. Let him go, please.”

“I don’t take orders,” he snarls, lunging to the right. I move to block him, and he growls at me. “Rose, move, now.”

“No,” I repeat. “You will let him go back, safely. He’ll never come back, but I have to know he’s going home safe.”

“What do you mean, ‘he’ll never come back’? Look, man, you back up. Rose is coming back with me. Come on, Rose,” he says, tugging me backwards. We only manage two awkward shuffles backwards before the Alpha lunges and grabs my arm.

“Please, please, just let him go,” I beg. “I’ll go with you, be the perfect Alpha female, the perfect wolf. I’ll do anything you want, but you have to let him go.”

“You will come with me, be the perfect Alpha female, and the perfect wolf. But I will  _ not _ let this trespasser, this vermin, leave my land,” he growls again.

“Rose, come on. You don’t need this. Let’s just go,” Scorpius says, pulling me backwards, but the Alpha still has a grip on my arm.

“I am not a rag doll,” I shout. They both drop my arms. “Please… Alpha,” I say, stumbling a bit over his name, title, whatever you call it. “Please, just let him go. If you love me, you’ll let him go,” I beg, biting my lip. He just continues to snarl at Scorpius, curling his upper lip like an animal, ready to attack. “Look at me,” I whisper. He looks down at me, and I can feel his will wavering. “Please, please let him go… for me.” He lets out a huff of air.

“For you, my darling, but only for you,” he warns me. “Say your goodbyes before I change my mind.” He turns his back, allowing us some modicum of privacy.

“Scorpius, you can’t come back. I don’t know how you got here, but you can’t come back. I have to… You can’t come back. I’m sorry,” I whisper. He pulls something small and silver out of his pocket, like a lighter. When I look closer, I realize it’s my dad’s Deluminator.

“This led me to you. I’m not leaving you here, Rose. Not like this, not here,” he says quietly, his voice breaking. I pull the Deluminator out of his hands. 

“You have no choice. I’m staying here. Goodbye, Scorpius. I’m… I’m the Alpha’s mate now,” I squeak, fighting back tears. If this were a movie, there’d be some really cheesy violin music playing in the background as they zoom in on me trying not to cry. But the only sounds are my labored breathing, and the Alpha, as he shifts on the pine needles, reminding us he’s there.

“But-” Scorpius starts.

“No,” I interrupt. If he keeps talking, I might not let him leave, and he has to, before the Alpha decides that Scorpius is too much of a threat. “I don’t… I don’t  _ want _ to be with you, Scorp. Not anymore. Not…” I take a deep breath, bracing myself for what I have to say. “Not now that I have him. Please, just say goodbye,” I beg. He closes his mouth.

“No,” he says stoutly. If this were any other moment, I’d laugh at his stubbornness, the way his eyebrows scrunch together and his lips pout. It’s his ‘determined’ face, the one he makes whenever he gets into a debate with someone. But I know this can’t be a debate.

“Goodbye, Scorpius,” I say softly, kissing his cheek. I turn around and walk away, grabbing the Alpha’s hand, and we walk back to the den in silence. 

 

She didn’t even look back.

“Scorpius, what are you doing out here?” someone says, shouting. I get the impression this isn’t the first time they’ve asked. When I look up, I realize it’s Hannah Abbott-Longbottom, the barkeep at the Three Broomsticks. I apparated back to Hogsmeade, but I don’t know how I made it when my mind was in a million different places. “You just come inside, now. Professor Longbottom will be out here in a bit to collect you. Come on, now,” she says, coaxing me inside like you would with an injured kitten.

“She didn’t even look back,” I whisper. 

“Come on, Scorpius,” she continues. I followed her into the tavern, sipping the Butterbeer when she told me, eating the food when she told me. But I couldn’t taste anything. I couldn’t feel anything. I only know one sensation, one feeling, one thing.

She didn’t even look back.


	45. Resistance, Thy Name is Futile

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “She doesn’t want to be rescued, Hol. She told me so. She made me leave. I fought for her for so long, even after she sent me away. I don’t have the energy to fight anymore,” I admit.  
> “Oh my God, you selfish, stupid, egotistical idiot,” Amber gasps. “You still haven’t accepted that she only said those things to protect you? To stop him from killing you?”

**Chapter 45: Resistance, Thy Name is Futile**

  
  


“They gave up. You realize that, right? The moment you came back, they gave up. They started classes back up again, the Aurors pulled out of the school. They gave up on her,” Holly says loudly. I know she’s trying to rile me up, but I don’t have the energy anymore.  “Damn it, Scorp. You were the one begging them not to give up, and now you’re just sitting here! It’s been nearly a month since they took her! What the hell is wrong with you?”

“She doesn’t want to be rescued, Hol. She told me so. She made me leave. I fought for her for so long, even after she sent me away. I don’t have the energy to fight anymore,” I admit.

“Oh my God, you selfish, stupid, egotistical idiot,” Amber gasps. “You still haven’t accepted that she only said those things to protect you? To stop him from killing you?”

“I think I liked you better when you were just the mousy first year who didn’t talk to anyone,” I mutter, standing up. 

“Don’t you stalk away from us,” Holly shouts. Madame Pince swoops in out of nowhere, shushing her. I take this opportunity to duck between the stacks and try and get away. “I mean it, young man,” she says quieter, showing up right behind me. Before I know it, Hugo jumps in front of me. His eyes are red and puffy, and I know he likely hasn’t stopped crying since she was taken. I start to go around him, but he moves so that he’s blocking my way.

“Hugo, buddy, get out-” he interrupts me by slugging me in the mouth.

“I am not  _ buddies _ ,” he sneers, “with the guy who gave up. I thought you were on my side,” he hisses, stalking away before Madame Pince can find us.

“You deserved that,” I mutter to myself, rubbing my jaw.

“Mr. Malfoy, the Headmaster would like to see you in his office,” someone says, handing me a scroll of parchment. Great, just another person I can disappoint today.

 

“Brethren,” the Alpha booms. “The cub, Rose Weasley, has completed her twenty-four hours punishment in the stocks. Is there anyone here who disagrees with her release?” Silence. I raise my head, sneering at them, spitting the blood out of my mouth.

“Go ahead,” I taunt them. “Protest, say what you want. Make me stay another twenty-four hours. Go on, I stole food! Come on, then, punish me!” More silence.

“With that, I release her. Beta Jacob,” the Alpha says. The lighter-haired Beta undoes the locks on my restraints. He puts a hand on my shoulder, leading me off the stage. I shake him off and walk down the steps towards my den mum, Taylor. The crowd parts for me, but I hold my head high. I show off the scar on my chin, the cuts and bruises of all different colors: yellow, green, red, purple, blue, black, and pink. 

“They should have kept me in there,” I tell Taylor loudly. She shushes me, squeezing my wrist. But I don’t care what anyone hears anymore, what anyone says or thinks. It’s not like they can do anything worse to me. Not anymore.

 

“Mr. Malfoy,” Headmaster Flitwick says solemnly. “There are quite a few people who’d like to talk to you tonight.” I look around his office; my parents are sitting in the corner, Aurors Jones and Smith stand next to Flitwick at the desk, Professor Vastra stands on the other side of Flitwick and Mr. Weasley is skulking in the corner, staring out the window.

“Wow,” I say sarcastically. “Don’t I just feel so popular.”

“Scorpius, quiet,” Mum says lowly, rising to her feet. “Everyone who is here is here to help you. Professor Vastra and the Aurors think they may have found another way to get to her, without the Deluminator,” she says, gesturing to them.

“Yes, it’ll work in rather the same way, but it’s more flexible. It can be used to find anyone, not just Rose! See it-” Professor Vastra starts.

“I don’t care. I already told you, she didn’t want me to rescue her. She’s shutting me out; I can’t even feel her like I used to. It’s like the connection’s just… broken. Trying to rescue her is pointless and it’ll just get your people turned or killed,” I interrupt.

“Listen, Malfoy,” Mr. Weasley snarls, “I don’t bloody care what she told you. I know my Rose, and she would only say those things if she was trying to save you. She knew that you couldn’t both get away, so she sacrificed herself to save you, and if you can’t get your bloody head out of your arse to see that, I don’t know how the hell you got into Ravenclaw!”

“Hey, Weasel, leave my son alone!” Dad shouts.

“Oi, ferret-boy,” he shouts back. Dad cringes. “My daughter saved your son, and now he isn’t even trying to return the favor!”

“Enough!” Professor Vastra bellows, and they stop fighting. “Elder Malfoy, go sit with your wife. Younger Malfoy, come here,” she orders, and we both follow- something about her voice indicates it would be  _ very _ unwise to disobey. “And Weasley, stop smirking and go back to the window.” I skulked over to her, keeping my head down and my hands in my pocket. She took my arm and slowly led me away from everyone else, keeping her voice low.

“Scorpius, I know you’re not really mad at Rose for sending you away,” she whispers. “You’re just blaming her because it’s easier.”

“Thanks Dr. Phil,” I sneer, referring to some Muggle doctor I had seen on a TV show once at Rose’s grandparents house.

“Shut up and let me talk, you great buffoon. You’ll find that I may sound crazy, but I actually know what I’m talking about. Anyway, you’re not mad at her, you’re mad at yourself. You’re angry that you couldn’t save her, couldn’t figure out a way to be the hero, yeah? And you can still feel her. She’s not blocking you out, you’re blocking her. It hurts too much to feel the pain and fear and suffering she’s going through because she saved you, so you block it out. The guilt is driving you crazy, so you’re projecting your anger.” She pauses and shaked my shoulder, making me look her in the eye. “See, sounds crazy at first but the more you think about it, the more sense it makes.”

“Yeah, yeah I guess,” I mutter, blinking back the tears. No  _ way _ I would cry in front of my dad, and Rose’s dad, and the aurors and everyone.

“Alright, now, back to my genius idea,” Professor Vastra says loudly, clapping her hands together. Once she has everyone’s attention, she paces in front of the fireplace, ruling the discussion the way she rules her classroom, with a steely gaze, and ears wide open.

 

“So they think they can find her with this thing, it’s like a, a, uh, what did Vastra call it? A GSP?” He explained, his eyes lighting up in a way I hadn’t seen them in weeks.

“No, sweetie, a GPS. It’s a muggle thing- global positioning system. It runs off of satellites in the sky that track where you are and give you direction- like a really advanced map,” I laugh, correcting him.

“Right, anyway,” he continues, “it finds anyone you need to find, like owls, you know? How they always find the person that the letter is addressed to, no matter what? Works like that, and it can help big groups find someone.” He beams like this is the greatest thing he’s ever seen.

“So they’re going to find her now?” Amber asks, an odd mix of emotion playing across her face: fear, apprehension, and confusion, but also excitement and joy. Understandable, considering her history with the wolfpack.

“No, the Aurors have to go through some bureaucratic red tape and get a troop of aurors ready to fight the wolves. Auror Smith said they’re running a training session to get them ready to fight werewolves and they’ll leave as soon as Auror Jones and Auror Potter can get permission from the Legal Department and the Minister of Magic. I’m trying to convince them to let me go with them,” he mentions offhandedly, like it’s not that important. But judging by the way his hands clench the armrest, he needs to go with them.

“Maybe if you talk to Auror Jones, one-on-one, you can convince her?” I suggest gently.

“Whatever, Hols. Whether I do or don’t, it won’t matter, so long as they get her back,” he grins stupidly, punching my shoulder. As he gets up and walks away, hopefully to find Hugo and apologize, or hug it out or whatever guys do when they make up, I decide that if he won’t fight for himself, I would. Tonight, I’m going to find an Auror and make them take him to save Rose.

 

“Hugo, man, come on. At least look at me and pretend to listen,” I shout, running to keep up with him. I’ll give it to him- Hugo is fit. I suppose I never noticed it before, but he’s always running, or exercising: he starts with a 5k-run around the Quidditch pitch as a warm-up, does some push-ups, sit-ups and the like, then runs a 10k, finishing up with stretches and a 1k cool-down run. Every evening, like clockwork, rain or shine. The lockdowns must’ve driven him crazy. He was already on his 10k when I came out to find him; he’s so fast, I’m tempted to summon my broom just to keep up with him. Finally, when I’m drenched in my own sweat and panting, I give in and summon it. I slow to a walk, holding my sides and huffing, waiting for it to arrive; I really should work out more.

“Look, Hugo, I get you’re mad with me,” I shout, zooming forward to catch him. He glances over at me and rolls his eyes, like I’m not even worth the effort. “Come on, man, let me explain! I didn’t really give up on her, not totally! I was just… It was just bad timing, when you overheard me. I was angry, and upset, and scared! Hugo, come on,” I continue pleading with me. He stops in his tracks so quickly that I fly right past him. When I circle back around, he’s standing with his hands on his hips and his jaw clenched.

“Where the hell do you get off? You think I care how  _ you’re _ feeling?” he shouts. He’s barely even breathing heavy, not really breaking a sweat; I really should get into shape- maybe he can train me, after this is all over. “I don’t, you prat! I care about my sister, and where she is! I care about finding her, even though you don’t.” I flinch, his words hitting me like shards of glass.

“But I  _ do _ . Did they even tell you they have a plan for getting her back? They’re just trying to get Ministry approval, but if they don’t get it before tomorrow night, I think they plan on going ahead with it anyway,” I inform him. He cocks his head, scowling, trying to figure out if he should trust me. 

“My dad said they had a plan, an idea of sorts, but he never said anything about getting it approved. Why tomorrow night?” It’s like a stone just dropped into my stomach, churning everything, making it harder to swallow, to move.

“Tomorrow night is a, uh,” I start, my mouth suddenly dry. “Hugo, it’s a full moon tomorrow. They  _ have _ to get her before then.  _ I _ have to get her before then.” Suddenly I realize, I really do have to; I failed before, in saving her. I was hasty and went without back-up ruining my chances. And ever since, I’ve been pouting, and sulking, blaming everyone but my own impulsiveness for my failure.

“Damn,” he mutters, squatting down and putting his head in his hands. After a moment, he stands up, but he looks significantly paler, and for him, that’s a challenge in and of itself. “Alright, I’m sorry I slugged you. Just, just find my sister, and I’ll find a way to make it even.”

“I’ve an idea,” I grin at him. “After this is all over, you train me. Make me fit, like you, and then we’re even, understand?” He nods and shakes my hand.

“Now, get out of my way. I have to run a 15k now because you disrupted me,” he says, scowling mockingly. I grin and hop on my broom, flying it back up to the castle doors, remembering the last time I flew, when Rose was with me.

 

“So, Auror Jones, you really have to let Scorpius go with you. I know he’s underage, and he’s not been trained, and he’s really emotional and distraught and emotional and distracted, but you need him! And before you explain with a list of reasons as to why he can’t go with you, just acknowledge this,” I say quickly, “Scorpius is bound to Rose, and we’ve all accepted that, whatever the hell that means. But we’ve also learned that he’s drawn to her, especially when she needs him or is in danger. The den is a big compound, and you probably want to get in and out as quickly as possible, yeah? The best way to do that, get her as quickly as possible, is to use him. He’ll be your biggest asset in there, your connection to her, and, and, like, why are you smiling at me like that?” I demand. She starts laughing, really doubled over with laughter. I stomp my foot. “Come on, that was my trump card! You can’t laugh at my trump card! Scorp has to go with you!”

“Oh, Holly,” she laughs, “I didn’t mean- I’m not- not laughing at your- haha, ha, ha- your trump card. I just, oh God, give me a minute.” She stops talking and laughs for a few minutes, laughing so hard she’s squeaking. Finally, she calms herself down.

“Sorry about that,” she smiles. “It’s just funny. You spent all this time trying to convince me, when I made these exact same arguments to the Ministry! Had to convince several people that Mr. Malfoy would be an invaluable asset to our team. I was just coming down to tell the Headmaster that he needed to excuse him from classes for the rest of today and tomorrow. We’re taking him down to get some basic training.” I stand there for a moment, slackjawed, then I burst into laughter.

“Alright, I guess, I guess I see why this is funny to you,” I say, wiping the tears from my eyes. “So, uh, I don’t wanna hold you up. Go, go get Scorp, and train him for that super secret rescue mission. Just hurry up and go, and bring back my friends, yeah?” I say, shooing her down the hallway. I feel ridiculous, like some idiot in an old romantic comedy movie, watching her hero ride off into the sunset, waiting for him to return with her long-lost love.


	46. Auror in Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Lupin, you’re not a dog in the backyard,” Auror Smith barked. “You’re a vicious wolf in a pack raised to hate our kind. We are trespassing on your land, trying to take your Alpha’s mate. What are you going to do about it?” Teddy lowers his head, baring his teeth and growling. He takes one slow step forward, and Auror Smith takes a step backward, drawing his wand with his right hand and a fistful of powder with the other.

**Chapter 46: Auror in Training**

  
  


“Oi, Malfoy! Eyes up. Pay attention, or you’ll end up wolf chow!” Auror Smith shouts. Some of the younger trainees, particularly those who dislike my father the most, snicker when I’m rebuked. But I refuse to blush, or bow my head in shame. I stand up straighter, folding my hands behind my back and looking him in the eye. In the school, I always saw Auror Smith as the bumbling, awkward auror, whereas Auror Jones was a leader, charismatic, and forceful. But here, in the training room, Auror Smith is a force of nature, shouting orders and demonstrating techniques.

“Now, I want everyone to pay attention, as we can only keep Mr. Lupin here for a while; his kids are in the other room, waiting for Daddy to take them home. So, Mr. Lupin, remind them why they should pay attention in this particular exercise.” Teddy steps into the middle of the room, his hair a shocking blue and his eyes bright green.

“I’m an animagus of sorts; I’m a second generation werewolf, that is, my dad was a werewolf and passed some of the abilities onto me. Ever since I was a kid, I could become a wolf, like a werewolf, not a normal wolf. So, you should pay attention because I can show you what it  _ really _ looks like and feels like to fight a wolf. Constant vigilance, kiddies,” he grins, winking at me. Everyone else goes slack-jawed when they saw him change; his head became elongated, his body lengthened, his shoulders hunched, and his hands and feet curled into paws, and a thick layer of brown hair sprouted all over his body. The change was over within two minutes, and he was standing in front of us, his tongue lolling out of his mouth.

“Lupin, you’re not a dog in the backyard,” Auror Smith barked. “You’re a vicious wolf in a pack raised to hate our kind. We are trespassing on your land, trying to take your Alpha’s mate. What are you going to do about it?” Teddy lowers his head, baring his teeth and growling. He takes one slow step forward, and Auror Smith takes a step backward, drawing his wand with his right hand and a fistful of powder with the other.

“Remember, aurors, their senses are heightened. What is mildly irritating to you is indescribably grating and distracting and disorienting to them. Find a way to impair their senses while fighting, without dismantling your own, is ideal. Watch, and learn,” he says, not taking his eyes off of us. He throws down the black, glittering powder and instantly the room goes pitch black. A few startled trainees yelp, mixing with the shouts of spells from Auror Smith, and Teddy’s growls and the snapping of his jaw. Within a few minutes, the dust dissipates and silence falls over the hall. In the middle of the room, Auror Smith is laying on the ground, completely still. Teddy stands over him, his jaw locked on the man’s neck. After ensuring that we’ve all seen the carnage, he releases Auror Smith, who jumps up and paces the room, looking at us.

“Who can tell me what I did wrong?” he says, going up and down the line. “Avery!” he shouts, stopping in front of a tall girl in her twenties. She flinches, but stares him down. 

“You impaired your own vision, which left you fighting blind, and he still had his sense of smell and hearing. You were blind and guessing where to put your spells, but he knew exactly where you were,” she recites immediately, looking just above his head.

“Right! What should I have done instead? Creevey!” he shouts, stopping in front of a large, muscled man with brown hair.

“Uh,” he starts.

“Wrong!” Auror Smith says, walking down the line. He comes to a stop in front of me, leans in close and shouts, “Malfoy,” getting spit on my face. I don’t wipe it off, I just rattle off an answer.

“Used a noisemaker, preferably something with a high-pitched frequency. It’ll distract the wolf and throw off his senses, but won’t do any severe damage to you in combat.”

“Good,” he nods, moving on. “Duffy, what else could I have done?” He continues in this way, battling Lupin, making us point out mistakes, and tell him how to correct them. After a while, he gestures at Teddy. He morphs back, his eyes a subtler brown, now. His face is red, and he’s panting, beads of sweat dripping down his face.

“Break for dinner. Be back in an hour,” Auror Smith warns us. I run to catch up with Teddy, putting my arm around his shoulders.

“Hey, man, how are you?” he asks. I shrug. “Listen, I can’t talk. I’ve got to get Cecilie home and into bed; she’s a routine and can’t fall asleep if we don’t follow it. I’ll talk to you later, yeah? Say goodnight to cousin Scorpius,” he says quickly. Cecilie waves at me sleepily. It looks like she’d been sitting on a bench outside the door, and Victoire was sitting with her, a storybook open on her lap. Baby Sam was in his pram, and Vic was gently rocking it back and forth with her foot.

“Bye bye,” she says, her voice muffled by her thumb in her mouth. I grin and squat down to give her a quick hug. She yawns as she hugs me, and I can see her starting to fall asleep on Teddy’s shoulder when he picks her up. 

“Oi, Malfoy, you coming, or what?” some of the trainees call out. 

“That’ll be ‘or what,’ Mulciber. Mr. Malfoy will be taking his dinner with me. We have a few things to discuss,” Auror Jones replies for me, putting a hand on my shoulder. She’s like a shadow, creeping up when you’re not paying attention. Once they’ve left, I turn to look at her. “Let’s go,” she says, jerking her head back towards the training room.

“Alright,” I mutter. I guess I’m not having dinner tonight.

 

“Now, you want to stand with your feet shoulder length apart,” she says, demonstrating. “Loosen up your muscles- not that loose! You’re not a limp noodle, boy!” I clench my teeth together, trying to find the perfect middle, poised and ready for action, like a coiled spring.

“Good,” Auror Smith adds, grinning. “Now, drop your shoulders a bit, just a bit. Perfect. Now, raise your weapon.” I grimace as I do it. The gun feels cold in my hands, too heavy and awkward.

“Remind me again why I have to learn to fight with a gun rather than my wand?” I ask through clenched teeth. I raise the gun and point it down the firing range, usually used to practice offensive  _ spells _ , at the clay dummies.

“Everyone else here has spent  _ years _ training in offensive wandwork. Even the youngest junior aurors have had at least a year with us, training. You’ve had barely a day. And before you protest, five and a half years of Defense Against the Dark Arts in no way qualifies you for this. You’ve learned basic defensive spells. You haven’t even gone through the physical component of our training! This gun, while distasteful, violent, and not as versatile or flexible in varying situations as a wand, can help close that gap in training. Now, point, aim, and fire,” Auror Jones explains. I do as she says, levelling the barrel of the weapon. I close one eye and squint, trying to do it like I’ve seen people do in muggle movies. I aim for the clay dummy’s head, and squeeze the trigger. The movies never showed the way the gun’s force propels me backwards. I stumble into Auror Jones.

“How was that?” I ask, standing up.

“Well,” she says, “you hit the hand, which is a pretty hard shot to make. Were you aiming to disarm?” 

“No, uh, not really,” I say sheepishly. “I was aiming at the head.” She whacks me upside the head.

“You know why you missed your target? You closed your eyes.  _ Never _ close your eyes when aiming a weapon that only causes death or severe injury. You  _ want _ to blow some innocent person’s face off?”

“No, ma’am. I’ll try again,” I say resolutely. We continue on in this manner for the entire hour, until all the other trainees are standing behind us, watching. After I’d mastered aiming at the still figures, Auror Jones enchanted them to move, some just to avoid me, others to attack so that I could get a better feel for firing while under attack.

“He’s a natural marksman,” Auror Smith whispers to Auror Jones. But in the silence, everyone can hear him. Noticing everyone assembled behind him, he claps his hands together, startling everyone out of the trace they’d been in. “Right,” he shouts. “Fall in!” We all hastily get back into a straight line, shoulder to shoulder. I make sure to stand straight up, shoulders back, feet together, eyes front and staring straight ahead.

“All junior aurors, please step forward.” A handful of us take two steps out of line. “Right, each of you will be assigned a senior auror to be your partner for the raid. Under  _ no _ circumstances are you to separate from your partner, junior aurors.” Auror Smith consults a clipboard in his hands and waves his hand. A large group of older, more seasoned aurors comes out of the shadows and stands behind him. I can’t see Rose’s uncle anywhere in the group. “Ramirez, you’re with Auror Sullivan. Hale, you’re with Auror Evans. Hubbard, you’re with Auror Gutierrez. Callahan, you’re with Auror Griswold. Pickering, you’re with Auror Pollock, and Malfoy, you’re with Auror Jones.” As he calls out names, the junior aurors step forward to meet with a senior auror. Auror Jones smiles at me as she beckons me forward.

“All aurors not yet assigned to a strike team, fall in! I will assign teams now. Once teams have been assigned, you will report to your designated stations for training exercises!” He starts to rattle off another list of names, but Auror Jones pulls me out the door and down the hall.

“No point staying for that. We’re on the extraction team. Those other teams are going to be used to scout, disable the defenses, and protect us from threats. We just need to focus on getting you ready for combat,” she says. We duck into a room labelled “COMBAT UNIFORMS.”

It’s like I walked straight into a strip mall fitting room. The floors were carpeted beige, but there were several large stains, many of which looked suspiciously like blood. The lights overhead were harsh fluorescents, rather than the soft glow of magical torches, like the rest of the Auror Headquarters. There are racks of outfits, ranging from full metal armor- from various periodic styles, mind you- to simple slacks and oxford shirts, typical office attire for aurors on non-training days. As I’m looking at the stalls, each outfitted with a full length mirror, Auror Jones peruses the racks. Finally, she reaches in and grabs an outfit.

“Perfect. Go put it on,” she says, smiling. I just look at her for a moment. She’s holding a hanger with what looks like a plain black set of workout clothes: pants, shirt, jacket, and a helmet and shoes hang off the side. But it looks big enough to fit three of me comfortably. “Oh we can alter it after. Go on, now, we’re wasting time.” I was right about the size. I’m swimming in fabric when Auror Jones opens the door, suppressing a grin. She waves her wand and the clothes start shrinking until they fit snugly, the fabric hugging me closely, but not tight enough to be uncomfortable.

“It’s really thick, and it feels kinda weird,” I say. She points the wand at my shoes, at first they were like boats, but soon became quite comfortable, the same with the helmet. Once it fits properly, I notice a thin layer of glass comes down over my face, and call me crazy, but it almost seems to make my vision better, clearer.

“It’s enchanted. The thickness is like a layer of protection. It makes you, well, basically everything-proof. It’s fireproof, waterproof, acid-proof, and spell-proof, to name a few properties. It won’t save you against Unforgivable Curses, but should protect against anything else. The shoes keep you from falling, tripping, and slipping, and they help you climb otherwise impossible surfaces. The helmet, obviously, protects your head. That glass in front of you, it makes your vision sharper, and helps detect incoming spells, and other threats.”

“Amazing,” I mutter. “This suit is fantastic. Will it protect against werewolf teeth and claws?”

“Um, it’s never been tested. But probably,” she assures me. Before I can dwell on that depressing guess, she adds, “Now, come on. We have some more clay dummies to shoot at.”

 

I’m crouched behind the door of the hallway, the entrance that I used to the den when I first tried to rescue Rose. A light snow is falling, but I’m not cold. I’m easing the door open when there’s a low growl behind me. I turn as slowly as possible, and find myself face to face with three wolves. One looks like it’s still a child, gangly and small and awkward. The other looks lithe and fit, medium sized, like an adult female. The third is by far the largest, his paws as big as my hands. They’re all the same russet-color with big brown eyes, which makes me think of a family of wolves.

“Easy,” I whisper softly, holding one hand out non-threateningly. With the other, I slowly inch towards my holster. When my hand grasps the grip of the gun, the female wolf lunges. She’s fast as lightning, aiming towards my throat. I barely get the gun up in time before- BANG. The snow on the ground is stained with red, and the wolf lays dead at my feet. With a horrendous growl, the biggest wolf lunges towards me. I roll away, and he hits the wall with a resounding THUNK. But of course, that’s not enough to stop this wolf. He just shakes out his fur and turns to snarl at me. I don’t think, I just shoot. When I look down, I see two wolves lying before me in a sea of red snow. There’s a piteous howl and I look up. The last wolf, the small, childlike one, is looking at its dead parents (siblings? friends? pack mates?), whining sadly. I feel guilty, leaving this kid all alone. Before it gets a chance to turn sadness into anger, I open the door and run. At the very least, that howl was a call to other wolves, reinforcements. 

The halls are eerily silent as I’m running down them. I guess wolves don’t like being indoors much. I retrace the steps I remember, turning down hallways without even thinking about it. Eventually, I reach the hall with all the locked doors. When I go to open her door, a growl greets me. I don’t bother turning slowly; this time, I whip around to see the biggest wolf I have ever seen.

It’s the size of a horse, or a car at least. It’s paws are as big as my face, and the claws are stained with dirt, and something dark red, like blood. His fur is black as pitch, his eyes practically blending in with that. The only distinguishment I can make is the thin layer of red around his eyes, like he’d gotten dust in them or something. He snarls and makes a strange noise with his throat; I realize after that it sounded like he was laughing at me. He crouches low, and I know that this is him, the Alpha. 

I don’t hesitate; I raise the gun and fire once, twice, three times. I lose track, and just keep firing until the weapon clicks and I know it’s empty. The Alpha collapses in a heap on the ground, his breathing ragged. It’s amazing, really. All those bullets, and he’s still alive. So I pull out my wand. I don’t have to, not really. I rationalize that I’m just neutralizing a potential threat, but really, all I can think about is how he hurt her. How he scarred her forever, physically and mentally. How I want to make him pay for what he’s done. So I channel all of my anger and hatred, and whisper, “Deletrius.” I stand there and watch as the great and mighty Alpha disintegrates into dust and blows away. I turn and open Rose’s door. I’m moving towards the bed, to the trembling shape under the covers when I realize my mistake. 

I’d been so focused on the Alpha, that I failed to see his partner, his Beta, behind him.

The Beta lunges at me before I can turn. I fall to the floor, closing my eyes as my head slams against the concrete. I point my wand and don’t even have the presence of mind to think of a spell. I just want it to stop for a moment. When I don’t feel its claws sink into me, I open my eyes. Standing above me is a giant statue of a wolf mid-lunge. I stand up shakily, crawling around the wolf’s paws. Finally, I get to the bed. Just as I’m about to get Rose, the lights turn on, and everything disappears.

 

“Not bad,” Auror Jones says. I grin, panting only slightly. “You’ve improved quite a lot.” The first time I tried this simulation, the female wolf killed me before I could even get my gun out.

“Those simulations are unreal,” I say.

“Yeah, well, magic. So, I think you’re as ready as you’re going to be. But now comes the hard part,” she says ominously. Pausing for effect, she elaborates, “Waiting. We’re leaving later in the day, once the official order comes through. We aim to be there just before sunset, when they’re disoriented just before the change. So now, I bring you to my office. I’ve set up a cot for you in there, and you can have some food. Let’s go,” she says, shoving me along down the hallway.

“Sleep? You want me to sleep, to eat a good breakfast? You want me to sleep while Rose is where she is? Just hours before I get her back, and you expect me to sleep?!” I shout at her. 

“If you want to come with us, you damn well better sleep,” she orders. “I don’t have my aurors on a mission underfed and overtired. Now, go!” she says, shoving me into a small room. I trip over a navy blue cot, a thick canvas material over a collapsible metal frame. I sit down cross-legged on it, looking around. The only thing of interest is an enchanted window. It shows the sun rising over a forest, and I imagine it’s the forest where Rose is.

I lay down on the cot, determined to sit there, awake, planning tactical strategies until we leave. As I’m planning, I smell something delicious; sitting on the desk is a big bowl of cereal, and a plate of eggs. I swallow them quickly, using the pieces of cereal as my visuals in my plans. It’s only after I finish it all that I realize I am, actually, very tired. Despite all my protests and all the nervous energy, when my head hits the cot, I fall into a deep sleep.


	47. The Last Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is it, tonight. This is my last night as a normal human. And for just a moment, I regret sending Scorpius away all those weeks ago. It’s incredibly selfish, but I’d rather Scorpius and I both be struck dead as traitors than live the rest of my life as a werewolf, never allowed to see him again.

**Chapter 47: The Last Night**

  
  


“Oh Rose, my love,” he says softly, stirring me from sleep. “Tonight is the night, the night the full moon rises. Tonight, you will truly become the Alpha Female, the Luna. Prepare yourself.” He kisses me on the forehead and leaves. This is it, tonight. This is my last night as a normal human. And for just a moment, I regret sending Scorpius away all those weeks ago. It’s incredibly selfish, but I’d rather Scorpius and I both be struck dead as traitors than live the rest of my life as a werewolf, never allowed to see him again.

 

“Scorpius, wake up,” Auror Jones whispered. “Come with me. It’s almost time to go.” She waits until I open my eyes, blinking slowly. She pretends not to notice the way I shake as I walk. I can’t believe the time has actually come. I’ve sulked, and I’ve shouted, and I’ve pouted, and I’ve cried, and I’ve pretended that I don’t miss her, but I do.

It’s like there’s been a part of me missing. Yeah, that sounds soppy, I know, but it’s the only way of describing it. I once heard something called “phantom limb pain.” I guess it’s like when an amputee feels pain in the limb that’s no longer there, or something. It’s like Rose was another part of me, as important as an arm, or a leg, or a brain. I never really thought about how much I needed that part of me until I didn’t have it anymore, and it’s an aching sort of pain.

“Come on,” Auror Jones coaxes me. I realize that I’d stopped in the middle of the hall. 

“Sorry,” I mutter, continuing to walk. “Just weird to think that tonight's the night, the last night I have to be away from her.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see Auror Jones look at me with pity. “Mmm, just, er, forget I said that, yeah?”

“Whatever you say. Now, you have to get something to eat. Come on, kid,” she says, patting my back. I wince, feeling the ache all over. But after tonight, that void will be filled, I’ll make sure of it.

 

“Come on, Rose,” Taylor says gently. “I’m to take you to the bath house. You have to be clean and pure for tonight.” I laugh gently, remembering a dream I had once had, when I first started to learn about the pack. Two wolves had been holding me down, saying they’d pour bleach down my throat. They wanted me to be pure, too.

“Don’t start, Rose. Not tonight. Tonight isn’t the night for your sarcasm, or your helpful little comments. You can’t afford it, not with a wolf’s temper,” she says sternly.

“Oh, it’s always the time for my helpful comments,” I grin cheekily at her.

“Rose, I mean it. Tonight is a really important night, and you can’t be smart with him,” she says. I can actually  _ see _ the steam coming out of her ears.

“Oh, why? Is it because he doesn’t know how to be smart back? Or can he just not understand smart? Too complicated?” I laugh. She strikes me hard across the face. I just roll my eyes; Taylor isn’t strong enough to leave a mark or do any real damage.

“Now, come on. It’s time to clean you up. And please, Rose, be nice. This is your last night as my cub,” she says apologetically. I have no smart comment for that. Despite her slightly warped views on the pack, she really does care about me. She’s tried to protect me, and all I did was get her in more trouble.

“Yeah, tonight’s the last night for a lot of things,” I mutter, kicking a rock as we walk to the bath house.

 

“Scorpius, come on. You have to eat, keep up your strength,” someone encourages me.

“You think Rose is eating a steak, right now? She’s probably being tortured, or something, not enjoying a nice, slightly rare, steak,” I muttered.

“Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy, you eat that steak,” a stern voice says. When I turn around, I see Nana Molly standing behind me, holding a plate of steaks in one hand, and a very large fork in the other. “I did not spend all day in the kitchens making enough steaks to feed the entire Auror department just for you to sit there and not eat it. Go on, you need the protein if you’re going to get my granddaughter back.” Great. Now I’ve got the added pressure of not disappointing Molly Weasley.

“Yes, ma’am,” I say quietly, ducking my head. A few people laugh as I start to cut up my steak. It’s hard to swallow. It feels like there’s a lump in my throat, and every time I try to swallow, it gets bigger. And there’s a record running in my head, over and over:  _ Rose isn’t eating steak right now. Rose isn’t eating steak right now. Rose isn’t eating steak right now.  _ And it’s accompanied by some vivid images of what she probably  _ is _ doing right now, and none of them are making me any hungrier. In fact, most of them make the lump in my throat swell. 

But hopefully, this will be the last night those things will ever happen to her.

 

“Rose, come on, you have to eat. It’s the ceremonial meal on your last night as a normal human,” Taylor pleads, holding out a large silver plate.

“A steak? Let me guess, it’s rare.” She gives me a dirty look.

“It’s not just ceremonial, it’s functional. Look, when you’re bitten, it’s gonna take a lot out of you. You’ll need to save your strength, and you’ll need the protein,” she says, trying very hard to be calm and logical.

“I’m not hungry,” I mutter, crossing my arms.

“Look, everyone gets nervous the night before they get turned. But trust me, you want to eat this,” she insists. She sits there, watching me take every bite, but it’s hard for me to swallow. It feels like there’s a lump in my throat, and every time I try to swallow, it gets bigger.

“Look, after tonight, everything will be so much better,” she says emphatically. “Your life here will be so much easier now that you’ll have full privileges, and because you’re the Alpha’s mate, you’ll have so much power! And you can be a den mum, and you’ll get to have pups of your own, and everything will be great!”

“Yeah, great,” I say, my voice breaking. “After tonight, everything will be… different.” Tonight is the last night where I can even pretend to have some freedom. The last night I can hold out hope that Scorpius will rescue me. The last night I’ll ever be normal again. The last night before I become a monster.

 

“Alright, people. We all know the plan. Stick with your partner, and protect each other’s backs. And do remember, while these are people during the day, tonight they will be animals. They will not hesitate to kill you, so do not hesitate to attack them. We will transport in groups, with a two minute interval between each transport. Group A, step up!” Auror Smith shouts. A group of about twenty people go up to him. He’s holding the contraption Professor Vastra made for all of them to grab onto; it’s a large silver disk, like a Hula-Hoop sized Frisbee. There are strange carvings all over it, some resembling Greek letters, others like Roman numerals, and still others like just strange shaped scribbles.

“Rose Weasley,” he announces, the way you announce where you’re going when you get into the floo. With a burst of blue and green light, the entire group is sucked into nothingness and disappears. Within a few seconds, Auror Smith reappears. 

“Start the clock,” another auror shouts.

“Group B!” and so the cycle continues, and the crowd waiting in the Atrium slowly gets smaller. Finally, there are only two teams left.

“Group E!” I step up with Auror Jones. The team after us is to cover our backs, and protect us while we bring her back.

“You ready?” Auror Jones asks, nudging me. 

“I have to be. It’s my last chance; the moon is rising.” And with that cheerful note, we’re sucked into the void of blue and green color, and it’s my last chance to get Rose back, to save her from becoming a monster.

 

“Rose, this is it. I have to put you up in the chains now, but that’s so he can get to you easier, and keep control. I’ll let you down first thing in the morning, okay? But hurry up, I have to go. The moon is rising.” Taylor gets me up off the bed and pushes me against the wall. The cold metal chafes against my wrists, and I start to whimper. “No, no, don’t be scared. It might hurt at first, but it’ll feel so good in the morning!” 

“I don’t want this,” I cry.

“Shhh, no tears, no tears. He won’t like that. If he asks, tell him they’re happy tears! Now, I really have to go. It’s- I can feel it- it’s starting. I’ll see you in the morning, love,” she says, kissing me on the cheek as she runs out the door. Before I even hear her footsteps even get down the hall, I start to sob. In the distance, I hear a chorus of wolves howling.

_ This is it. _

 

This is it. 

When we land, I can hear a chorus of howling, and the sounds of a fight. The snow crunches under my boots and we begin to run. All I can feel is a pull in my gut, the pull to Rose. The closer I get to the den, the more fights I see. In some places, I see wolves bound, unconscious. I try to ignore the unconscious human bodies I jump over- I have to think they’re just unconscious, and the red stains around them aren’t fatal.

“Scorpius, you’re getting too far ahead. You’re losing us,” Auror Jones shouts. I pause, letting them catch up, and a wolf lunges out at Auror Jones. I’m trying to get my gun out of the holster, but before I can do that, several flashes of red light hit the wolf, and it falls to the ground.

“Just stunned,” Auror Jones shouts. “Go, we have to get her soon!”  _ Before the Alpha bites her _ , I finish the sentence in my head. Finally, after what feels like hours of running through the woods dodging spells and wolves, we reach the hallway door. I’m trying to ease the door open quietly when I hear a high-pitched scream. Screw trying to be sneaky. I slammed the door open and ran to Rose.

I can’t afford to be slow, not now.

 

Oh dear God, why is he going so slow?

He came crashing in, a huge wolf the size of a small car. He’s as black as the night sky, his eyes a dark brown ringed in red. He fixes his eyes on me and meanders forward slowly, like he’s savoring the moment. I try to stop crying, because Taylor said he wouldn’t like that, but I only manage to make myself hyperventilate. He comes closer, sniffing at my shirt. For tonight, Taylor dressed me in a white silk tank top and shorts; Taylor said that I was to wear all white on the night of my turning, some symbolism or something.

He shoves his big wet dog nose underneath the tank top, and I jump, trying to scoot myself away from him. I only get as far as the cement wall and chains let me go. He growls slightly and I freeze, my entire body trembling.

“P-p-please,” I whisper. He licks my stomach, and rubs his furry head against me, like a normal dog. I suppose he took that as a good sign. He nuzzles against me for one more moment, and then I feel him open his jaw, put his teeth gently on my hip. “Oh, God,” I moan, crying again. He takes this as permission and sinks his teeth into me. Through the burning pain, I hear a SNAP as the door flies open, cracking against the wall.

The Alpha releases his grip on my body to see Scorpius standing in the doorway.

 

Oh God, I’m too late.

The only thing I can see is the blood on her side. He bit her, and I was too late. She’s crying and screaming in pain, convulsing like she’s been shocked. But I have to tear my eyes away from her when the Alpha lunges towards me. 

“Duck!” someone shouts from behind me. I hit the floor so hard that it’s possible I bit my tongue off, but when I see three jets of red light hit the Alpha, I feel a bit better. But this is not enough. He crashes to the floor just inches in front of me, and I scramble backwards. When I’m back in the hall, the wolf gets up, shaking his fur. So I do what I practiced in the simulation: I shoot. Shot after shot after shot after shot. I hit his chest, his paws, his ear, his legs, his mouth, his head. Finally, when the gun runs out of bullets, he collapses to the floor. I can see his chest moving rapidly as he takes shallow, uneven breaths. I reach for my wand, stepping forward. I can hear sounds of fighting in the halls, but I don’t turn to help my team, I step closer to the Alpha’s broken, mangled, bleeding body.

“Don’t,” Auror Jones shouts, grabbing my shoulder. “He’s gone, don’t waste your time, and don’t do something stupid.” I don’t care. I want to do something stupid. I want to use the Cruciatus Curse, make him feel pain. I want him to disintegrate, the way he did in the simulation. I want him to suffer. I can feel myself raising my wand. “Don’t do it,” she insists. “Take care of Rose. You need to put this salve on the wounds so that they’ll close. Come on, go.” She shoves a vial into my hands. Rose yelps when I touch her, and I want to cry for her. I can feel it, the fire in her hip. It burns through her veins, and the fire is spreading like poison.

“Oh, Rose, it’s okay, now. You’re coming home,” I whisper, rubbing the salve on her. She fights against the chains, weeping.

“Don’t, stop. Just let it bleed. Let me die, I don’t want to be a monster,” she sobs. She yanks her hands against the chains until they bleed. “Let me die, let me die, let me die!”

“We have to sedate her,” I whisper.

“No sedate!” she says hysterically, her words getting garbled in her sobs. “Let me die! Don’t help me!” Auror Jones nods sympathetically and slips me another vial.

“Another salve to, uh, help with the pain,” she whispers. I nod, and within seconds of it touching her skin, she’s blinking, yawning, and her eyes are closed.

“Uh, ma’am, we’ve neutralized the wolves. They’re being taken away now. Can we move her now?” someone says, peering into the room. I unlock the chains with my wand and scoop her up in my arms. Auror Jones conjures up a stretcher and they wheel her away, leaving me standing alone in the room. 

I sit on the bed, looking around. This was her life for the past month. She woke up on this bed of rocks, looked around at the blank walls. She stood up and put her feet on the cold floors, fought tooth and nail, shedding blood and skin and hair just to get a meal. She was chained to the wall for punishments. And then, she put her head down at the end of the night, and tried to fall asleep, tried to escape the living nightmare. I lifted the pillow and pulled it onto my lap. When I move it, I see something shiny on the mattress, the Deluminator.

_ “Bring it back  _ only _ when you’ve got my daughter _ , _ ” _ Mr. Weasley had said. I slip the Deluminator in my pocket, glad I can finally give it back to him.


	48. Recovery Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I shouldn’t be alive, right now.  
> I wish I wasn’t alive right now.  
> I tried very hard not to be alive right now.

**Chapter 48: Recovery Time**

  
  


I shouldn’t be alive, right now.

I wish I wasn’t alive right now.

I tried very hard not to be alive right now.

“Rose, you have to eat something,” they tell me.

“Rose, please open your eyes.”

“Rose, drink some water.”

“Rose, you have to stop holding your breath. Breathe, Rose.”

“Rose, it’s time for your potion.”

“Rose, it’s time for your bath.”

“Rose, you have some visitors, your family. Say hello.”

“Rose, you have to eat something.”

“Rose, stop holding your breath.”

I don’t want to be alive right now.

 

“She’s just… empty,” Mrs. Weasley cries, leaning on Mr. Weasley’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Scorpius. I just don’t know what to do.” I lean forward and grab her hand.

“This won’t, it won’t be easy for her, you know? Everything’s different now. Can I, could I please go sit with her? Even if she doesn’t say anything, I just want to go sit with her. Please,” I whisper. Mr. Weasley nods, gesturing for me to go.

“Ah, Mr. Malfoy. We were just about to try and give her some lunch,” the Healer says, pushing a tray.

“Do you mind if I do it?” I ask. “Maybe I can, um, I don’t know, help, or something. I just want to feel like I’m helping. It’s been three days.” The Healer- I really should remember their names, but I just can’t be bothered right now- sighs and gives me the tray.

“Rose, it’s Scorpius,” I whisper, walking into the room. Originally, she’d been in a ward for creature-induced injuries, but after she’d gone catatonic, they moved her to a private room so they could better care for her. I tried to make it feel more like home, bringing her Ravenclaw blanket, putting a few pictures of her and me and Holly on the walls. I tried to bring in Sherlock, but the Healers wouldn’t allow it. Of course, now he’s just stalking the halls at Hogwarts, meowing and hissing at everyone. “I brought you something to eat.” She doesn’t even react, just continues to look out the window.

It hurts to see her like this, so pale, and small. They’ve only been able to feed her when she’s asleep, so she’s clearly malnourished. Her hair is dirty and tangled, her eyes are red and puffy, with thick, dark circles underneath. Her skin is smooth, but I remember what it was like when I found her. She’d been covered in scars, and burns, and scratches. They healed all of those, but I know that she still has the bite on her hip, and the mark on her back.

“So, they made you a tuna sandwich for lunch today, with some crisps and a pickle. You hungry?” She doesn’t say anything, just pulls at her restraints. On each limb she has a thick leather strap connecting her to the bedrails. The Healers insisted that this was for her own safety after she tried to kill herself the first night she was here.

Everything was madness; everyone was shouting, they were using blood replenishing potions, trying to seal the bite. She was fighting them from the moment that she opened her eyes, screaming at them not to bother saving her. They told me and her parents to leave, but they were too busy attending her to actually enforce it. They finally thought they got her calmed down and turned to shoo us out the door. Fast as lightning, she grabbed a bottle of Calming Concoction and started drinking all of it. Before anyone could move, she had downed half the bottle. When they got it away from her, she wasn’t breathing, and they said her heart had stopped. After they got her back, she was silent, wouldn’t move, wouldn’t react, wouldn’t eat, wouldn’t drink. The Healers insisted that they keep her restrained so she can’t hurt herself again, but I don’t think she has the strength in her.

“Here, if you take a bite, I’ll take a bite,” I offer. She won’t open her mouth. “Has anyone been keeping you updated on what’s happened since we rescued you?” She doesn’t speak, but she does turn to look at me, a blank look on her face. I remember what her mum said:  _ “She’s just empty.” _

“Well, they captured all of the wolves and are questioning them. Some were, were killed. But none of our people! And there were only like, seventeen who even got injured! Really, we were lucky. They’re all going to be fine, and, um, you’re here. After they finish questioning them, um, well, I don’t know what they’ll do. Release them, maybe? They’re not talking to me about that. But, uh, I think you should know that the Alpha is, um, he’s dead. And so are the two Betas. They’re, they’re all gone. And, and there’s one girl who’s been asking to see you. Her name is Taylor, and she says she needs you. They didn’t want to unless you give the okay. And Holly and Amber really want to see you, but they don’t want to overwhelm you. And Flitwick, he said that the school was only told that you’re home, and you’re safe. But, uh, everyone is asking about you. Everyone wants to know how you’re doing, and I don’t know what to tell them,” I finish, my voice breaking. Truthfully, I think everyone’s heard the rumours, everyone’s heard Rose was kidnapped by a werewolf. 

“Tell them I want to see Taylor,” she says, her voice hoarse with disuse. “And don’t you dare eat my crisps.” I grin at her and, for the first time in over a month, she grins back at me.

 

“Rose, we need you to come back with us, to the den,” Taylor pleads, glancing back at the Auror just outside the door, the only way they’d let her come visit me.

“I can’t go back. I, I belong here,” I tell her, but I know she can hear the uncertainty in my voice. Do I even belong here anymore? I know I want to.

“Rose, all of our leaders have been murdered. You’re the Alpha now. When they let us go back to the den, it will be chaos. With no Alpha, the pack will devolve. We have to have a leader, and you’re the only one.”

“I can’t,” I tell her. “I won’t be a leader who… who lets that stuff happen to, to kids and innocent people.”

“Rose, everything we do, we do for a reason! Rose, you have to come back! You’re a wolf, you don’t belong with these, these  _ humans _ ,” she sneered the word like it was the worst insult she could think of.

“Alright, Taylor, just, just let me think about it, yeah?” she nods and stands, ready to leave.

“I’m so sorry about your loss,” she says as she walks out. For a moment, I’m confused. She  _ wanted _ me to be a wolf. Why is she apologizing for the fact that I am? But then, it hits me. She’s not grieving the loss of my humanity, but rather the loss of my mate, the Alpha.

 

“I don’t want to go back there. I can’t go back there,” she whimpers.

“Oh, Rose, you don’t have to do that,” I assure her, rubbing her arm, but she pulls away. I try very hard not to be insulted.

“But I can’t let them keep running the pack like that! I, maybe I could convert their behaviors from the inside, you know?” she says like she’s been giving this a lot of thought.

“You, you can try if you like,” I said quietly, trying not to shut her down. “But you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”

“Yeah, yeah, well, whatever. So, um, tell me, how did you guys even find me?” She curls her knees up to her chest and tilts her head. 

“Oh, um, it’s actually kind of interesting. You’ve read the  _ Symposium _ , right? By Plato? Well, do you remember the part where he said that humans were actually created with two faces, four arms, and four legs. The gods feared their power, so he split them in half, condemning them forever to search the world for the other half of them, their soul, their being. And everyone thought it was just a story, you know? But now, now Vastra thinks that he was describing something he had seen, an unexplainable connection between two people. Vastra thinks that it’s where we got the idea of, well, of soulmates.” I pause, giving her a moment to digest.

“Right, that makes sense. But what does this have to do with…” 

“Well, she thinks that you and I, um, er, have that, that connection. She used it to make this thing that works like an owl, and a portkey, and the floo network.” She narrows her eyes and bites her lip, and I know she’s just trying to understand everything.

“So, um, she thinks you and I are, uh, are soulmates?” There’s an awkward pause. “Well, this, um, this changes things. How did she, um, figure this out?”

“I was having these, um, these visions. I’d black out and I could see rough stone walls, and chains, and, and everything you were seeing. And sometimes, I could, I could feel what they were doing to you. Every, um, every time that whip lashed against your back, I screamed with you. I, uh, I gotta say, I think I freaked everyone out. They couldn’t quite figure it out until they asked Professor Vastra because she’s got, um, some background in magical signatures and stuff. As near as they can figure, the connection lies dormant until something, uh, sparks it, or something. So, when we were in first year, um, remember that? The thing with Roger, they think that activated the bond, and we just never realized.”

“Wow, so, um, so for six years we’ve been connected, and we never knew? I don’t, um, I need some time to, uh, to process this. Can we just, um, talk about something else?” I nod. I guess now isn’t a great time to show her our matching scars.

 

“It’s just so strange, you know? I mean, everything is different now,” I whisper.

“Oh poor little rich boy,” Holly snickers. “He found out the girl he’s been in love with since forever is his actual and literal soulmate. I feel really and truly terrible for your problem, Scorp.”

“Shove off, Holly, it’s not the greatest thing ever. Now it’s like, like there’s this pressure, you know? After I told her it was so,  _ so _ awkward. We ended up just talking about classes and she asked me to bring all of her notes from the month she was gone, like she was home sick, not kidnapped.” I sigh and stand up, pacing.

“Look, no, I get it, Scorp. It’s different now, but it’s the most different for Rose. So, I’m sorry I snapped at you, but most of my sympathy is with her, and I want to help her get herself better first,” Holly explains. 

“You say that like I don’t want her to get better.”

“No, Scorp, hon, I know you do. But this, this changes  _ everything _ and it’s monumental! She’s going to need us, our strength, to help her out. And, quite honestly, I don’t think it’ll be awkward after a while. Remember, she’s had a lot to accept in the past three days. Just let her get used to it. Now, come on, get those notes. We have a whole month’s worth of classes to teach!” She bounds off down the hallway lugging half of my stack of notes.


	49. Decisions, Decisions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wake to a low growling.  
> Oh, no. He’s back. I knew he wasn’t dead; he’s back, and he’s here in my hospital room, and he’s going to punish me for running away from him. Oh, God. The growling stopped. What could that mean? Is he preparing for the kill? Have I finally gone too far? Part of me is relieved, but another part wants to hide. I mean, do I really want to die? I don’t have time to figure this out before I hear voices.

**Chapter 49: Decisions, Decisions**

  
  


“Rose, love,” someone says softly, shaking my arm. “Rosie wake up.”

“No!” I shout, jerking away from him. He can’t do this to me, he can’t touch me. I don’t want it.

“Hey, hey, hey,” the voice says, putting his hands on my arms, holding me down.

“Stop, it, leave me- don’t!” I shout, keeping my eyes shut tight.

“Damn it, Rose, it’s your mother,” the voice shouts shrilly. I open one eye and see my mum, in all of her bed-head, bushy-haired glory, leaning over me, holding my arms down. I stop thrashing. “I just wanted to, um, wake you up. It’s time for supper,” she says softly, letting go of my arms.

“Mum, when can I go back to school?” She purses her lips and brings the tray over to my bed. “Mum?”

“Your father and I think it would be best if you, um, take some time off from school,” she says gently, avoiding eye contact.

“No!” I shriek. “No, I have to go back to school!”

“Rose, I understand that you’re in a bit of, um, shock, but this is going to take some time. Now, we’ve arranged an appointment for you to see a therapist so that you can, um, talk about your experiences.”

“No, I’ll see the therapist, but I’m going back to school.”

“Rose, you’re already behind and the stress of catching up and finishing exams on top of everything else, well, it’s just not a good idea,” she explains.

“No! Mum, you don’t understand,” I wail.

“Then explain it to me.”

“I just, like, I can’t not go back to school. I’d have to repeat the year! And, and, he’s already taken  _ everything _ from me. He can’t take this, too! He can’t screw with my education!” Mum just sits there, looking at me.

“Alright,” she says finally. “I will bring this up to your father. We will discuss our options again, with Professor Flitwick and Madame Pomfrey. Now, Rose, eat your soup.” I know that this is as far as I’ll get for now, so I just shut up and start my supper. Besides, even getting my mum to reconsider is a victory in and of itself.

 

I wake to a low growling.

_ Oh, no _ . He’s back. I knew he wasn’t dead; he’s back, and he’s here in my hospital room, and he’s going to punish me for running away from him. Oh, God. The growling stopped. What could that mean? Is he preparing for the kill? Have I finally gone too far? Part of me is relieved, but another part wants to hide. I mean, do I really want to die? I don’t have time to figure this out before I hear voices.

“Get out,” a voice growls.

“Get out of my way. I’m taking her back where she belongs,” a female voice says. I know both voices are familiar, but in my grogginess, I can’t remember why.

“She belongs here, with me,” the first voice says.

“Scorpius?” I mutter, opening my eyes. “Why did I hear growling?”

“Oh, Rose, love, you have to come with me.” When my vision clears, I see Taylor standing over me. “And get Amber, too. She should’ve come back to us ages ago.”

“Oh, Taylor, I can’t just leave.”

“She’s not leaving with  _ you _ ,” Scorpius sneers.

“Look,” she says, ignoring Scorpius, “the Aurors are releasing the pack this afternoon. If they get back and there’s no leader, it’ll devolve into madness and violence. People will die, and my pups will be in danger. I can’t have that, and I know you don’t want that either.”

“Alright, alright, alright, Taylor, I will… consider coming back to the pack tomorrow. Please, it’s the middle of the night. I’d like to sleep,” I groan. 

“Of course, my Alpha. Goodnight.” As she’s leaving, I shout back at her, “I’m not your Alpha!”

“Rose, you don’t have to do that. She can’t guilt you into it,” Scorpius says, putting his hand on my arm. I try not to pull away, knowing he means well, but he pulls away anyway.

“I… I know. I just don’t want to talk about that right now. Why was there growling earlier?”

“Oh, well, that was me,” he says sheepishly, grabbing the back of his neck. “Your parents went to get a change of clothes and something to eat, so I offered to sit in here with you, to keep you company in case you woke up. Your dad jokingly called me your guard dog as he left, so I thought it would be funny to actually  _ be _ a guard dog. Plus, when I was a dog, you didn’t panic when I slept at the foot of your bed, even though I was touching your feet.”

“Scorp, you know I…” I don’t know what to say to make him understand, make him not feel so bad.

“I know. It’ll take time,” he nods, and I can feel his longing. It’s a jarring feeling, and it gives me a splitting headache. Suddenly, it’s like I’m trying to be in two places at once, like there are two overlapping projectors running two different films. If I concentrate, I can differentiate the two. In one, I see Scorpius, and all is normal. But in the other, I see myself. It’s strange to look at myself; I haven’t been able to look in a mirror or anything in over a month. My hair is dirty, greasy and hangs in clumps. My skin is pale and my cheeks gaunt, like I’m a skeleton, but the bags under my eyes are darker than the night sky. And while I’m looking at myself, I feel different. I feel sympathy, empathy, love, and desire; it’s certainly quite strange to desire… yourself. With a jolt, I realize that I’m seeing what Scorpius sees, feeling what he feels. It’s like he described experiencing while I was gone.

_ “Bloody hell,” _ I hear myself mutter. I’m trying to imagine what this would have felt like for him, to be sucked into a world of darkness and pain, a shadow who isn’t there, but feels every moment of it. Suddenly, the dueling visions end, and I’m left looking at Scorpius with a newfound understanding and appreciation for his steadfastness.

“Scorpius,” I say quietly, moving forward. He leans in, thinking I’m going to whisper something to him. As he gets closer, I can’t wait. I don’t care that it’s the middle of the night, that I’m in the hospital, or even that I’ve become a werewolf. I throw myself at him, wrapping my arms around him, nuzzling my head into the crook of his neck, and we fit together perfectly, as if we were crafted to fit together.  _ Two parts of one whole. Two halves of one soul. _ The phrase runs through my minds, over and over again as I pull him closer.

“Rose, you’re shaking,” he says softly. He’s right, but I don’t know whether it’s from fear or pure, unadulterated love. I don’t respond, not trusting my voice to find the right words. I hold him closer, pulling myself onto his lap. I know from seeing through his eyes that I’m so much smaller than I was, all skin and bones, sharp angles and points. I think back to the beginning of the year, and how devastated I was to hear Harvey’s hissing,  _ fat cow _ . Now, I’d much prefer the softness of curves, the delicate sensibility and shapeliness, just another thing the Alpha has stolen from me.

 

“I have to apologize to you,” Scorpius says eventually, breaking the silence. We’d been sitting there like that, me curled on his lap, arms around his neck, his arms around my waist, for quite a while, at least an hour.

“Hmmm?” I mumbled.

“After I tried to rescue you, when you sent me away, I was angry. I… Part of me believed that you really stopped caring about me, that you had turned your back on us, your friends. I shut you out, and I stopped feeling your pain. I was angry with myself, because I failed to bring you home. I was so close, and yet I failed, and, um, that made me angry. Instead of facing that, I blamed you and grew resentful. And I have to apologize because I gave up on looking, until Holly, Amber, and Professor Vastra knocked some sense into me. So, um, I know that it doesn’t mean much, or help anything, and you may hate me now, but I had to tell you that I’m sorry.” I don’t respond for a minute, remembering how hard it was to send him away. All I wanted was for him to keep running, to take me away from there. But I knew we wouldn’t make it ten meters before the Alpha caught us. I knew he would kill Scorpius mercilessly, and punish me for escaping. The only way to save him was to hurt him. And every fibre of my being screamed at me for turning my back on him. 

“Sending you away was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do,” I whisper honestly, and I can hear my voice, ragged with emotion. Instantly, I feel myself reliving it, but now it’s compounded as his emotions flood my system. His total and utter despair, and my regret and longing mingle in my body, and I can feel my energy and life force being sapped away.

“You didn’t even look back,” he says, his voice small.

“If I had, I wouldn’t have been able to go through with it. That was the only way I could keep you safe,” I whisper.  _ God _ , I feel like we’re the main characters in a cheesy romance film, but these are the only words I can find that even begin to describe what it was like. “I couldn’t,” I pause, choking on the words for a moment. “I couldn’t go on if I knew that I had gotten you killed. I knew that as long as you were safe, I could live there for the rest of my life with that knowledge. It kept me sane, knowing I had protected you.” He gives a small chuckle.

“All that time, I thought I had to save you, come to your rescue. Now I’m seeing that, when I needed it most, you were the one doing the saving.”

“We save each other,” I tell him. He sighs and leans back on the bed, reclining so that we’re just lying entangled in each other.

“I know you’re still thinking about what Taylor said,” he whispers in my ear. “And I don’t like it, but if you do decide to go back, I am coming with you, understand? I’m not leaving you there again.”

“I haven’t even decided anything yet,” I say, trying not to smile.

“I know. Just throwing that out there, as a factor to consider,” he replies, adjusting his chin so that it rests on the top of my head.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I smile, closing my eyes. Now that we’re laying down, it’s harder to fight the pull of sleep. The rhythmic sounds of Scorpius’ breathing is like a soundtrack, in tune with my own breathing, my heartbeat, the hum of energy in the room. With this symphony of sounds echoing in my mind, I feel myself falling asleep.

 

“So, I really think I have to go back, to the den. I have to go and try and make it better, or, at the least, dissolve the pack peacefully. I couldn’t live with myself if anyone there died or got hurt because I wasn’t there, and I don’t think you would be able to either,” I implored. Scorpius had gone home hours ago, and I spent the last twenty minutes explaining to my parents why I needed to go back, why they should let me go this afternoon.

“Absolutely not,” Dad says immediately.

“What your father means,” Mum starts, scowling at Dad, “is that we don’t think it’s a good idea. Rose, love, you just got out of there, and you suffered so much! You were so, so  _ broken _ when we got you out of there. Do you remember that, Rose? Your first night here, in the hospital?” My face burns with shame. I remember the sense of urgency as I drank the potion. I wanted to go to sleep, forever. I didn’t want to live as a werewolf, an enemy to my family, danger to my friends. I couldn’t stand the possibility that they would abandon me, so I had to take desperate measures.

“I’m better now,” I insisted.

“Rose, you can’t possibly understand the magnitude of what’s happened. It runs deeper than you think. Have you ever heard of Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder?” 

“Isn’t that something muggle soldiers get when they go off and fight in a war?” I ask, confused at where they’re going with this.

“It’s not quite so simple,” Mum says gently. “Anyone, muggle, witch, wizard, centaur, elf, goblin, dwarf,  _ anyone _ , who goes through a traumatic experience can get this. It’s like your mind and body are stuck in the traumatic event, and you keep reliving it. And trust me, going back to the scene of the event so soon can cause an avalanche of emotions that you aren’t ready for.”

“I can handle it! It’s not like I’ll be going back to the Alpha and his reign of terror. When I go back,  _ I’ll _ be in control. And besides, didn’t you tell me to face my fears?”

“Rose,” Dad says sternly. “Believe me, this is not as simple as you’d believe. After the war, I couldn’t cope. I was angry all the time, and I couldn’t go back to Hogwarts without seeing Fred.” He pauses, collects himself. “I tried to face it, but it was too much. I didn’t finish school, I went on to be an auror, thinking that would help. Finally, your mum convinced me to talk to someone about it, and that was the only thing that helped. Not confronting it, not trying to face it, but talking about it. We don’t want you going through that pain.”

“Dad, you are one of the bravest people I know, but we’re different people. I need to see it, and I need to know that it doesn’t have power over me anymore. It’s not like I’ll be there alone. Scorpius will come with me, and Taylor and Amber will be there, on my side. I’m going, whether you like it or not. But I’d really, really love it if I got your blessing.” I pause, looking each of them in the eye. “Please, this is just something I have to do.” Mum sighs, and I know I’ve won. If I can convince her, I’m sure Dad will see reason.

“I don’t like this,” she prefaces, “but you have my permission. But I want you to take this two-way mirror, and _use it_. Let me know you’re there, and you’re okay, and you’re coming home.” She pulls a mirror out of her beaded bag, like she knew I’d need to leave.

“Thank you, mum,” I beamed, taking the mirror. I throw my arms around her, then look at dad. He clenches his teeth, but finally sighs and opens his arms.

“I don’t like it either, but you’re more stubborn than your mum, so I know you’ll go anyways. Just come back to me,” he sighs, pulling me close.

“I promise,” I whisper, letting go of him. I had to prepare; if I wanted to take back the den, I had to prepare myself.


	50. Reclaiming What's Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As we near the den, I can hear voices, at least one hundred voices all shouting and arguing. Scorpius tenses, standing up straighter. I see his left hand inch towards his pocket, where his wand is. When we walk into the hall, the shouting becomes louder. Following the chaos, I find myself back in the grassy square. Everywhere I look, I see groups of people arguing, shouting and shoving each other. Teeth and nails are bared, snarls and insults flying. Scorpius grabs my hand and takes the lead, bringing us around the edge of the courtyard. He brings us up to the stage, and we all collectively cringe; the stockades are sitting open with puddles of dried blood surrounding them. From my raised position, I see everyone is fighting. Somehow, through all the carnage, I catch Taylor’s eye. She nods at me, and I step forward on the stage.

**Chapter 50: Reclaiming What’s Mine**

  
  


“You sure, Rose? We can still turn around,” Scorpius offers. I see Amber nodding fervently on the other side of me. As soon as we apparated to the forest, her entire demeanor changed. She kept her head bowed, practically retreating her entire neck into her jumper, like a turtle. I can see her shaking lightly, and if she had a tail, I’ve no doubt it would be tucked firmly between her legs.

“No,” I say firmly, putting a hand on Amber’s shoulder, and grabbing Scorpius’ hand in mine. “I have to do this. I have to go, and try to stop any violence. Amber, you don’t have to come with me.” She doesn’t respond, just leans into my side. Unfortunately, she leans into the bite on my hip, causing a stinging pain, but I don’t say anything to her.

As we near the den, I can hear voices, at least one hundred voices all shouting and arguing. Scorpius tenses, standing up straighter. I see his left hand inch towards his pocket, where his wand is. When we walk into the hall, the shouting becomes louder. Following the chaos, I find myself back in the grassy square. Everywhere I look, I see groups of people arguing, shouting and shoving each other. Teeth and nails are bared, snarls and insults flying. Scorpius grabs my hand and takes the lead, bringing us around the edge of the courtyard. He brings us up to the stage, and we all collectively cringe; the stockades are sitting open with puddles of dried blood surrounding them. From my raised position, I see everyone is fighting. Somehow, through all the carnage, I catch Taylor’s eye. She nods at me, and I step forward on the stage.

“Enough!” I bellow. Slowly, the fighting stops. Once everyone’s eyes are on me, my mind blanks. I forget the speech I had rehearsed, the questions I wanted to ask. I felt very, very small, standing there with all those eyes on me.

“That’s the one who destroyed the Alpha,” someone snarls, looking at Scorpius.

“Heathen.”

“Traitor.”

“Murderer.”

“Kill him!”

“No!” I manage to shout, finding my voice. The crowd, which had been advancing just a moment ago, stopped. “No, you won’t kill him. He was acting in self defense, and my defense. Now, tell me, why are you fighting?”

“We disagree on the future for the pack,” someone growls.

“You plan to  _ destroy _ the pack,” someone else sneers at the first voice. “With your ideas of assimilating into the human world.”

“We have no Alpha to lead us here! No Betas, no one!” the first voice replies.

“ _ I _ am your Alpha!” I boom. There’s a heavy silence.

“You’re just a cub,” someone shouts, breaking the silence.

“No, I am a wolf, now. And your former Alpha made me his Luna, his next in charge, his Alpha Female,” I shout back, pulling up my shirt to show them the scar from the bite mark. “He is gone now, but I am here. And I am your Alpha. You will listen to me!” I could feel the weight of my words roll over them. About half the crowd fell to their knees, including Taylor, Amber and even Scorpius.

“What if we don’t want to listen to you? What if we don’t want to run our pack into the ground with you?” someone shouts.

“You’re free to leave, make your own way in life. But those who no longer want to live in fear, spreading pain and perpetuating stereotypes, they can stay with me. I don’t want to destroy the pack, but I sure as hell won’t let it run the way it did before. So yeah, some changes will be made, but the pack will remain,” I say firmly. A few people mutter to each other.

“Tell us about the changes, oh Luna,” Taylor shouts, lifting her head up, winking at me. The fear, and panic from before is back, and suddenly I can’t remember anything. Then, it’s like Scorpius is whispering in my ear, but I see he’s still on his knees.

_ The punishments. The isolation. The fear. The distrust. Get rid of that, _ he whispers.

“We will do away with the harsh punishment system; it doesn’t help make us stronger by making us compliant, weak, and dazed from pain! We will remove the isolation we have placed ourselves in; isolation does not strengthen the pack, but keeps you lonely, weak, and afraid. We will end the climate of fear and distrust; a pack cannot be strong if no one trusts anyone.” As I spoke, I could feel the ground shaking beneath me. When I looked down, I realized Scorp had pointed his wand at my feet and was raising a stone dais, like a layered wedding cake with tiers and steps all around. After I finish speaking, there’s silence.

“You all have a right to leave, but do so peacefully. If you do choose to leave, you must speak with me first, understand?” I turn to step off the dais, and the silence breaks.

“Hey, are you leaving?”

“Who’s in charge while she’s gone?”

“No one!”

“We have no Betas!”

“You can’t leave us without a leader!” everyone shouts. I turn around.

“Silence!” I bellow, and everyone stops talking, falling to their knees again. “In my absence, I name Taylor, my former den mum, as my first Beta. I will name another Beta upon my return tomorrow. At that point, I expect everyone to have made a decision regarding their plans. Stay or go, it doesn’t matter to me, because the pack will go on. But before you decide, make an appointment to speak to me with my Beta Taylor.” I tap Amber, and Scorpius on the shoulder and smile at Taylor in the audience, who had already risen. As we walk back through the crowd, Taylor moves to the stage. 

Standing on the dais, she shouts, “Bow! All hail Rose Weasley, the new Alpha Luna! Mark today as the rise of the Luna!” There’s a flood of movement as everyone throws themselves on the ground. Every forehead touches the grass, hands splayed forward. Even the youngest of toddlers is laying on the ground. We walk through the woods in silence, no one speaking until we’ve apparated back to St. Mungo’s, when I collapse in a heap on the ground.

 

“Bloody hell!” I shout, trying to catch her. She slumps to the floor before I can do much but pull her back so that she falls on my legs.

“She’s just tired,” Amber explains. “She used the Alpha commands for that entire speech. She didn’t know, but she just kept using it. It sapped all her strength.”

“She used the what?” I ask her. To everyone else, I shout, “Hello? We need a Healer in here! Help!”

“Scorp, it’s called the Alpha Command. Remember that power in her voice? It’s something only the Alpha can do, but it’s difficult. It’s like an emergency procedure, using that command. It works well when there’s a riot and you need everyone to stop. But she kept using it, and it drained her.” She continued her explanation even after a young, blond Healer came in and levitated Rose onto the bed.

“It’s just exhaustion,” the Healer pronounces. “She’ll need food, drink and bedrest. I’ll have someone bring in some orange juice and cookies while I update her chart.”

“Told you,” Amber smirks as Rose begins to stir.

“Bloody hell. Scorp, why didn’t you tell me you had a twin brother? Oh God, Amber, you too?” she mutters groggily, blinking her eyes at us, trying to sit up in the bed.

“No, no, stay down,” I tell her, sitting on the bed with her. When she closes her eyes, I put my hand on her arm. She jerks away, and I can’t help but feel a little jilted. I know it’s not me, just the memories of what happened to her, but it hurts just the same.

“It was the Alpha Command, the power you used. Here, look, they brought you some nice juice,” Amber said soothingly. As the Healer left the tray, Amber poured her a tall glass of juice. I held the juice while Amber helped Rose into a sitting position, supporting the middle of her shoulders the way you would with a baby.

“The what?” she mumbles between sips.

“You accepted your role as Alpha, and that position comes with a lot of power and responsibility. You put that power into your words to make us bend to your will. But that power is pure magic, and all magic comes with a price. Just replenish your blood sugar, take a nap and you’ll be okay,” she whispers, rubbing small, soothing circles in her back. Nobody speaks except for Amber as Rose drains the cup. Amber is telling Rose stories, ancient Greek myths, if I’m understanding correctly. I suppose it doesn’t matter what she’s saying, but it’s the calm, quiet, soothing tone she’s using. Before we know it, Rose has finished half a pitcher of juice and demolished half a dozen chocolate chip cookies. Blinking her eyes slowly, Amber slowly puts her back on the pillow.

“Oh, god, her dad is going to kill me,” I groan, leaning back in my chair. “He gave me one job: go with her to the den, and protect her. I think I’m doing great, I get back here, and she collapses. He’s gonna kill me,” I lament.

“Oh, yeah, he will,” Amber smiles. Out of the corner of my eye, I see her stare out the enchanted window, looking at the magical rain droplets pounding against the window. Her face turns sorrowful, and she bites her lip, keeping something in, a scream, tears, or both, I don’t know.

“Amber, come here,” I say, opening my arms. She gives a little whimper and leans into my arms. 

“I hate it there. I thought I could go back but, but I,” she chokes on her words.

“Shhhh,” I whisper, knowing I can’t say anything to really help. “You don’t have to go any place you don’t want to go. You can stay at school with us,” I assure her. We sit there for a while, and she continues to sob into my chest. We’re still sitting like that when Rose’s parents came back.

“What the hell did you do, Malfoy? One hysterical, and one unconscious,” Mr. Weasley says. I can’t tell whether he’s being sarcastic and joking, or is really angry with me.

“No, no, I’m fine,” Amber insists, though her eyes are red, her nose is dripping like a faucet, and her voice is thick with sadness.

“Ronald,” Mrs. Weasley chides, elbowing him. Then, she rounds on me, and I understand why all of her legal opponents and enemies lose. Hermione Granger-Weasley is  _ terrifying _ . She narrows her eyes and crosses her arms over my chest, and it’s like she can see straight through me, like I’m an insignificant gnat. “And  _ you, _ you will tell me why my daughter is lying unconscious.”

“I-I-I-I, it’s, um, it’s all my fault,” I stutter, all my bravery and heroics disappearing in the face of Hermione Granger-Weasley, the scariest woman alive. “She used her, um, her Alpha Command powers, energy drained her, and she, um, she passed out. Gave her juice, cookies, slept, and, um-” She holds up a hand and (thankfully) stops my stilted babbling. Her gaze melting into a sympathetic smile, she turns to Amber.

“Amber, love, can you tell me what happened?” Of course she could. She didn’t have to look fear in the eye and explain something she didn’t understand. Naturally, Mrs. Weasley accepted her explanation and didn’t hate me.

“So, that’s it, then? She’s the Alpha, now?” Mr. Weasley says softly, gently tucking a loose tendril of hair behind her hair.

“No, sir. Or, well, yes, but no,” Amber says convincingly. We all turn to look at her. “I mean, yeah she’s the Alpha, but that isn’t the end. She’s still your daughter.” Mr. Weasley shifts uncomfortably.

“I wasn’t doubting that,” he says awkwardly.

“Yes you were, sir,” Amber says confidently. “Don’t be ashamed. You were worried that it would change things, yeah? Well, it will. But it’s like, it’s something she can manage, something she can do. It won’t change who she is. It’s just gonna be an adjustment.”

“Yeah, Dad,” Rose croaks from behind us, grinning sleepily. “I’m still your little Rosebud.” His ears turned red and he lurched forward, throwing his arms around her. She grips him tightly, but I can see her gritting her teeth, like she’s trying not to flinch or cringe.


	51. Back to the Pack

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Alright, Rose, last chance: we can still turn back, leave, go home,” I offer. We’re tramping through the snowy forest, and all I want is to go back to St. Mungo’s. It’s not just wanting to keep Rose away from the place that caused her so much pain. It’s not just staying away from the two hundred angry, vicious werewolves in there who hate me for killing their former Alpha. It’s the way Rose looked when she was on that dais, commanding them. Her voice was like poison, and I could see her battling it. Amber claimed that being a werewolf wouldn’t change Rose, but I’ve no doubt that being the Alpha will.

**Chapter 51: Back to the Pack**

  
  


“Alright, Rose, last chance: we can still turn back, leave, go home,” I offer. We’re tramping through the snowy forest, and all I want is to go back to St. Mungo’s. It’s not just wanting to keep Rose away from the place that caused her so much pain. It’s not just staying away from the two hundred angry, vicious werewolves in there who hate me for killing their former Alpha. It’s the way Rose looked when she was on that dais, commanding them. Her voice was like poison, and I could  _ see _ her battling it. Amber claimed that being a werewolf wouldn’t change Rose, but I’ve no doubt that being the Alpha will.

“No, Scorp,” she says patiently. “I’m going because I have to show them I’m true to my word. I have to come back so that those who want to leave the pack can do so in peace.” She stops before going into the building, and turns to look at us. “But Scorp, you and Amber can go. Amber, I know you don’t enjoy being here. Go back to the school, and I’ll meet you there after. Scorp-”

“I’m going where you go,” I interrupt. She smiles at me and looks at Amber.

“Me too,” she squeaks, pulling open the door. We trail behind Rose, and I pull her close against me. Despite her brave words, she shakes being back in the den. When she walks down the hall, people skirt out of her way, avoiding eye contact. Most run down adjacent hallways, knocking on doors and ordering people to the square. Rose says nothing, just keeps walking. When she gets up on the dais, I hold Amber back. We both stand on the edge of the stage, back in the corner. As the crowd grows, Rose stands with her hands folded behind her back. To everyone else, she looks calm, and strong. But Amber and I see the way she fidgets, picking at her nails and wringing her hands.

“I have returned,” she booms after the crowd quiets, waiting for her to speak. “If there is anyone who wishes to leave, please come speak to me privately. I will be in my quarters.” Everyone stands there looking at her expectantly, waiting. Taylor steps up from the crowd and stands on the stage.

“Dismissed.” Everyone starts to file out, until we are left alone with Rose, Taylor, and three kids all standing close to Taylor, and the infant in Taylor’s arms.

“So, who’s this?” Rose asks, gesturing to one of the kids, a young girl with tan skin and impish features.

“This is Maria,” Taylor smiles. “She’s brand new, and was assigned to my care.” I think I’m going to be sick.

“Brand new as in… from the other night?” I ask.

“Yes,” she says tersely, glaring at me.

“Let’s go to my quarters, see how many people want to leave,” Rose says gently, trying to stop a fight before it starts. I don’t know why, but being around this woman makes my skin crawl.

“Of course. To the Alpha quarters,” Taylor says, turning on her heel. “Oh, Amber, will you take the kids back to their rooms?” She stutters, looking like she wants to protest, then bites her lip, and I can see her arms begin to shake.

“I don’t think she knows where their rooms are,” I interrupt. “Maybe you could take them, Taylor.” The woman sighs, giving me another icy glare. 

“Amber, you know where the Alpha’s quarters are, yeah? Make sure that everyone gets there safely.” She walks off, hitching the baby higher on her hip.

“Thank you,” Amber whispers. To everyone else, she says, “Take a right at the end of this hallway. Second left. Another right, no not that one.” She continues directing us until the tiled floors give way to dark blue carpets and polished, wood-panelled walls. We come to a door at the end of the hallway. Amber slows to a halt, several meters back from the rest of the group.

“I don’t want to,” she mumbles. “I don’t like it in there.”

“Rose, go. We’ll, uh, we’ll be there in just a moment,” I whisper, shooing her towards the door. Looking at Amber, Rose nods. “Amber, he’s gone. No more punishments,” I whisper, slowly approaching. She takes a step back, away from me.

“I-I-I… In my head, I know. I know he’s dead, and it’s over. I know that but, but still,” she says, fumbling over her words. “Standing in St. Mungo’s, I know he’s dead. Standing in the square, I know he’s dead. Standing in the school, I know he’s dead. But here? It’s like, like my head and my heart aren’t speaking, and I’m not sure if he’s dead,” she continues breathily.

“Okay, well seeing is believing, yeah? Come see, see that it’s empty and he’s gone.” I hear sounds coming from behind the door. I don’t like leaving Rose in there alone with those sounds, but Amber is another level entirely. If I leave her out here, I don’t know if I’d ever see her again. She might take off and never stop running, her fear too strong. But I can’t push her, can’t make her come into the room with me.

“Alright,” she says hesitantly, taking a step forward. Slowly, she works her way down the hallway, clinging to my hand. We ease open the door and find Rose facing a mob. Okay, so it’s not really a mob, more like fifteen or so people, mostly couples, though two or three women are holding children.

“I want to speak to you all individually,” she says, sighing like she’s said this before.

“Why?” One of the men grumbles. “I want to leave. My mate wants to leave. Can we have permission, now?” Rose sighs.

“Oi, that’s it!” I shout. “All of you, sit down. You want permission? Wait to be called. You,” I bark out, pointing to the woman the angry man had referred to as his wife. “You go first. Come on,” I say, grabbing Rose’s hand and pulling her into a room off the hall. Luckily, it’s an office. Granted, it looks like it’s never been used, but it’ll do. Amber starts to tremble as soon as I open the door, and I hear her wheezing as her breath hitches. Luckily, Taylor steps into the doorway.

“Excellent. Taylor, come help me do outtake interviews. Scorpius, take Amber and make sure the others don’t start anything,” Rose orders quickly. I nod and pull Amber away from the room, back into the sitting area. No one is speaking when we get in there, and I get the feeling they’d stopped as soon as we were in earshot. Damn werewolf senses.

 

“No, I understand your mate wants you to go with him. But do  _ you _ want to leave?” I repeat, getting frustrated. This is the fifth interview with a mate and they all go the same way: the husband wants to leave (are they considered the husband? are they married?), and she doesn’t want to upset him, so she goes. 

“I want my cubs to be raised with high expectations,” she says haughtily. “I want them to be strong. To do that, I have to raise them elsewhere, apparently. I want to leave.” I sigh. 

“Alright, then I grant you permission. Leave the pack and the den peacefully. Go, live your life, and be happy. Should you ever need a place to stay for a night, or assistance, feel free to come back to your birthplace.” Taylor told me the last few sentiments were unnecessary, but I had to keep saying them. Most of these people had lived in this den for their entire lives, and knew nothing else. They didn’t know how hard it would be to make it on their own in the world.

“That was the last one. Now what?” Taylor asks. It’s strange, being looked to for answers, or, rather, orders.

“Give everyone some time to do… whatever. I want to do a little redecorating. See if we can have supper in the square, yeah? I’ll hold the meeting then.” Taylor nods and disappears out the door.

“Well?” Scorpius says, raising one eyebrow when I return to the living room. He’s lounging in the same chair the Alpha had sat in when we had lunch in here that first day. I blink my eyes, needing to stay in the present.

“Well, now we do a little… redecorating,” I grin mischievously. 

 

In the end, our redecorating ended up with more destruction than anything else. It was Rose’s idea, one that popped into her head while she was interviewing people. The best way to destroy memories of this place was to create new ones, and remove any triggers for old memories. Amber was conflicted and confused at first. But soon joined in on the fun. Of course, she didn’t have the magical ability to destroy, but she proved quite handy with a quickly conjured cricket mallet.

“Alright, supper time?” I ask, standing. Amber rolls her neck, as if tensing for a fight, then, quickly remembers and stops.

“Time to have a meeting. What do I say?” Rose mumbles to herself. “Reassure them the pack is strong. Take away fighting for food. No more, um, no more sneak attacks on kids. No more locked doors. No more taking kids.” She continues to mumble to herself, trying to plan her entire speech as I pull her along towards the clearing. When we step onto the stage, the entire crowd quiets.

“Please, eat,” Rose says, smiling lightly. “Has everyone had something to eat?” She’s scanning the crowds, and I find myself doing the same. Half of the young people there are without plates, without a meal. “I told you yesterday that I was going to make changes to this system, and this is the first: meals are not to be withheld as punishment. There will be no more fighting to ‘earn’ the right to eat. And that starts tonight. Everyone, take a plate and eat.” I feel her words wash over me, hitting me like a ton of bricks. I need a plate. I should be eating my supper right about now. Thankfully, someone is passing out plates, so I take some for me and Amber. She waits until everyone has started eating and she has to shout to be heard over the scrape of forks on plates.

“I want to thank all of you who stayed. Change is scary, especially the changes I’ll be making. But the pack is strong, and this will only make us stronger! Before, we were divided and lived in fear of each other. Divided, we are weak, but I intend to unite us, make us strong. No more attacks on other members of the pack! No more isolating cubs and locking them in their rooms!” A few people grumble, so she continues, “how is isolating them and hurting them going to make them strong? Will they learn to be subservient, maybe, at great cost, but it will not make them strong. I want everyone to trust their pack, not fear it. Let the legacy we leave be one of peace, trust, and strength.” The words wash over me again, and I know that she’s right. Why do I hate Taylor so much? She’s part of the pack; I should trust her. “Also, we will not be recruiting anymore unless the prospective pack member is over seventeen and discusses it with me.” This is met with a chorus of hisses and boos. “Quiet!” She shouts. I close my mouth, afraid to breathe, lest I make a sound. “Kidnapping our members as children is a violation of trust. You steal their childhood, their memories, and their freedom. I do not want a pack of unwilling members. I want a pack of people united, and happy. No one will recruit any new members without allowing me to speak with them.” She looks around and I’m hit with the sudden need to kneel in her presence. I am not worthy to be looking upon the Alpha, I should avert my eyes. When I look down into the crowd, I see other people dropping to their knees, looking at the ground. 

“Does anyone have anything they wish to bring to the attention of the pack? I want this to be an open forum for all,” Rose adds.

“Is Beta Taylor the only other leader you’re appointing?” someone shouts. Rose hesitates, and I can feel a conflict warring within her.

“No, I have another Beta lined up, should he be willing to accept the responsibility and its implications.” She pauses and turns to me. “Stand up, Scorp,” she hisses. Loud enough for everyone to hear, she says, “Do you, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy accept the responsibilities and duties of being a leader? Do you, willfully and freely, desire to become part of a whole, greater than yourself? Do you want to be my Beta?” I stand there for a moment, my jaw dropping idiotically.  _ Scorp, I don’t know if you can hear me. It’s really awkward if you can’t, _ her voice appears in my head, whispering to me.  _ I know you’re not a wolf, but you’re my best friend, and apparently my soul mate. Make it official, be my Beta, say yes. _

“Yes,” I say immediately. “Yes, I, Scorpius Hyperion Malfoy do hereby accept eh responsibility and implications of being a Beta. I willfully and freely desire to be a part of a greater whole, a part of this pack. Yes, I want to be your Beta.” She breaks into a grin.

“So shall it be,” she says. To the protesting crowd, she turns and says, “Per new pack rules, he will not become a wolf until his seventeenth birthday. But he  _ is _ your Beta, and you  _ will _ treat him with respect.”  _ Or else. _ The silent threat is there, and I don’t like it. Already, Rose is changing, becoming a new person. She’s harsher, imposing her will on others without even meaning to. “Uh, anyone else have any new business?” And just like that, the harshness is gone, and she’s the same lovably awkward Rose. When no one speaks up, she brings her hands together awkwardly. “Alright, meeting over. Dismissed. Go do… whatever it is you guys do.” With that, everyone slowly starts milling about.

“Rose,” Taylor says shortly. “You made  _ him _ , a Beta?” She points an accusing finger at me. “He’s not even a wolf.”

“Taylor,” Rose says, anger creeping into her voice. “I asked that the pack treats him with respect. Are you a part of this pack?” Taylor nods, looking down at the ground. It’s strange to see a child rebuking an adult, but what worries me is the… discord in Rose’s voice. It’s like I can hear something unstable inside of her, something in her voice, like she’s fighting herself and losing. I don’t know how else to describe it, but I know that that’s not quite right. “Then I ask that you also treat him with respect. We’ll be back in about a week. Can you handle everything until then? Let me know if we need someone else to help,” she says, her voice softening as she goes. Taylor nods.

“Of course. I know of a few people who helped keep everything on the administrative side of the pack well-kept. You know, money-wise, procuring food, etc. I can reach out to them, see if they’re willing to continue in their positions. If that’s alright with you, of course, my Luna,” she adds hastily. Rose sighs.

“You don’t have to call me that. But yes, if you can get them to help you out, please feel free.”

“Of course. Safe travels, my Luna.” Taylor bows deeply, her hand sweeping out with a flourish.

“I told you-”

“Let’s just go, Rose. No use arguing,” I whisper, grabbing her arm. She shrugs, following me, and I can tell she’s close to collapsing from exhaustion again. She leans into my arm, allowing me to pull her along like a child, putting my arm around her waist. Walking through the halls, we come across many pack members, all ambling around chatting, just being normal people on an afternoon. When we pass them, they instantly fall to their knees and shout, “Safe travels, my Luna.” Rose frowns every time, but is too tired to argue. When we apparate back to the hospital, she’s unconscious before we even stop spinning. Glad that I had been the one to apparate, not her, I scoop her up under her legs, like carrying a child, and I lay her down in the bed. Tucked into the blankets like that, she looks like a normal sixteen-year old, not like a werewolf, or the Alpha of a giant and unstable pack, not someone still overcoming a trauma, just a kid.

“All hail the mighty Alpha Luna,” I say quietly, kissing her forehead.


	52. The Luna's Legacy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ah, Miss Weasley, welcome back,” Flitwick says, a twinkle in his eye. I grin as Rose stands and throws herself at Holly. Holly had visited Rose every day, though we rarely went together. We went in shifts, so that she’d always have one of us there with her. Despite how often we saw each other, she launches herself at me as well, before moving on to attack Amber with a hug.
> 
> “So, you ought to know that the professors here have made every effort to keep your ordeal a secret,” Flitwick begins, but I can hear there’s a “but” coming.
> 
> “Naturally,” Dumbledore interrupts, his eyes twinkling even in a portrait, “this means most of the school is buzzing with rumours. Whether you choose to dispel them with the truth or allow students to believe what they want, is up to you.” She takes a deep breath.

**Chapter 52: The Luna’s Legacy**

  
  


“Mum, I’ll be home for Easter break in a few weeks,” I groan as she hugs me tight. After a lot of arguing, I convinced them to let me finish school.

“And you’ll see the therapist every week,” she adds.

“And I’ll see the therapist every week,” I confirm.

“Don’t you dare sneak out again,” Dad adds.

“Well, Uncle Harry took my only way out of school,” I grin teasingly. When they figured out how I had gotten out, the invisibility cloak and marauder’s map dropped on the ground in Hogsmeade from when he took me, Uncle Harry not only confiscated the items from his sons, but also helped Flitwick seal the passage to students. “Relax, I won’t sneak out anywhere,” I add, feeling him tense.

“Well, then I guess we’ll see you this Saturday,” Mum says, and I see the tears in her eyes. Saturday is the first appointment with this therapist person Mum found, and she and Dad want to come to make sure it goes smoothly and we get along and whatever.

“I’ll see you Saturday, mum. Love you, Dad,” I affirm, carefully pulling out of their grasps. I grab a handful of floo powder and confidently announce, “Hogwarts, Headmaster’s office,” disappearing into the green flames.

 

“Ah, Miss Weasley, welcome back,” Flitwick says, a twinkle in his eye. I grin as Rose stands and throws herself at Holly. Holly had visited Rose every day, though we rarely went together. We went in shifts, so that she’d always have one of us there with her. Despite how often we saw each other, she launches herself at me as well, before moving on to attack Amber with a hug.

“So, you ought to know that the professors here have made every effort to keep your ordeal a secret,” Flitwick begins, but I can hear there’s a “but” coming.

“Naturally,” Dumbledore interrupts, his eyes twinkling even in a portrait, “this means most of the school is buzzing with rumours. Whether you choose to dispel them with the truth or allow students to believe what they want, is up to you.” She takes a deep breath.

“Thank you,” she say, and I can hear in her voice that she’s not quite sure what to do. “Can I go back to my dorm now? As I understand it, I have mounds of classwork to catch up on.” He nods, dismissing us all. Rose runs down the spiral staircase to find an explosion at the bottom.

 

When I reach the bottom of the staircase, it erupts in noise. It looks like the entire school is waiting in the courtyard and the halls, and when they see me, an almighty roar is released.

“Welcome back!” everyone shouts, cheering and clapping. I look around and feel myself beginning to tear up. When the Wotter clan steps forward, crushing me in a group hug, I feel myself start to sob.

“Happy tears,” I assure everyone, and they laugh. In all honesty, the reception is a bit overwhelming. I mean, I have my friends, and I’m nice to people in the corridors, but I didn’t expect the entire school to show up to welcome me back. Part of me wonders if they’re just here because James promised a raging party in the Great Hall. I can see people leaning forward, moving towards me to hug me. In the crush of bodies, I start to sweat. I can’t breathe. I can’t move. It’s like I’m restrained, held down, tied up, against the wall. I groan, trying to stop the flood of images, but the more bodies I feel rub up against mine, the worse it is.

“Come on, Rose,” Scorpius mutters in my ear with a grimace. To the crowd, he shouts, “Make way. She’s got a month of classes to catch up on, and wants to get back to her dorm room. Move on, move on, move on. Have a welcome back party tomorrow night. We have classes in the morning.” People slowly start to make a path and Scorpius gently pulls me along.

“Are they a couple now?” I hear someone whisper.

“Duh. You didn’t know that?” someone else responds. I tense. Scorpius and I hadn’t discussed what the next step in our relationship was, what we were, after he told me we were soulmates. I mean, what the hell. What a bomb to be dropped. What a build-up for our relationship. What if we crash and burn? Does that mean I live the rest of my life without love? I can’t think about that. I can’t right now, not when I already can’t breathe.

“They’ve always been a couple, just secret because their parents forbid it,” the whispering continues. I try to block it out by focusing on the floor in front of me, the feel of Scorpius’ hand in mine, leading me away, and forcing air in and out of my lungs.

“Rose, let’s go up to the common room, yeah? We can relax, just you, me, and Holly,” he says softly, turning to face me once we get out into an emptier corridor. I can breathe now, but I know everyone is going to flock back to the common room soon anyways, and I can’t deal with all those bodies, all those memories.

“No,” I whimper, my knees buckling. I’m pathetic. Weak. I’m not worthy of being a leader. How can I lead the pack, how will they respect me if I act like this? How can I change things for the better if they don’t respect me?

“Rose, it’s okay,” Scorpius whispers, scooping me up in his arms. 

“Rose, we’re here,” Holly adds.

“Let’s go someplace quiet,” Amber suggests.

“The Room of Requirement,” Holly nods, and I sway in Scorpius’ arms, feeling him start to walk. I’ve shut my eyes, foolishly thinking it would help me stop the racing thoughts. I don’t open them until he sits down, still cradling me. I see that we’re in the room where we used to go with Amber, our safe space where we could talk about the Alpha without fearing anyone overhearing us.

“It’ll take time, Rose,” Scorpius whispers. I don’t know how long we sit there. I don’t say anything, I just close my eyes and curl up against Scorpius, focusing on his breathing, matching mine to his. They start to talk in hushed voices about nothing in particular. At some point, I must fall asleep.

 

“So, Rose, my name is Dr. Hauser, but you can call me Lilah. This session is to help figure out if I’m the best person to help you. Did your parents explain this?” I shake my head. “Well, since therapy is such a personal experience, it’s important that you and your doctor’s personalities are compatible. You need to feel comfortable with someone before you can really open up to them and get to the place where you need to be. I like to call it ‘shopping around’ for a good doctor. And if, after this session, you don’t think we’re a great fit, for whatever reason, even if you can’t describe it, you can never make another appointment with me and I promise I won’t be offended. Alright? So, tell me about yourself.” 

“Um, shouldn’t you be asking me about what happened to me?” I ask, confused.

“My, my, my. You certainly like to hit the ground running,” she smiles. “I want to understand all of you, not just what happened to you. So, tell me something: before all of this started happening, the letters, the threats, the fear, what was your life like?” I sigh. Before all this happened, everything was so simple. 

“I was happy,” I sigh again. “I had a boyfriend, I mean he was a terrible boyfriend and we broke up, but he sometimes made me happy. And I had great friends, still do. We’d just become animagi before this school year. And my family and I were good. I mean, we’re crazy sometimes because my parents argue, and my brother and I argue a lot, and he’s like, 13, so he’s really moody and pisses off my parents, and they’re famous, so people are always watching us and pointing at us, but we were happy, for the most part. Life was, was good, especially when I compare it to now.”

“What do you mean he was a terrible boyfriend?” she asks, leaning forward. She tilts her head to one side and locks eyes with me. I look down at my hands in my lap.

“Um, Harvey and I, we just, er, we weren’t in the same places. We didn’t want the same things. We weren’t a match intellectually, so I felt like we couldn’t have conversations, and he wanted to be more physical than I did, and he always made me feel guilty about not wanting the things he wanted, and not liking the things he liked, and everything,” I explain, surprising myself that I’m telling her this much.

“That’s unfortunate,” she sympathizes. “Was it an amicable break-up?” I snort to myself.

“Far from it,” I explain. “See, turns out all he was doing with me was trying to win a bet with his mates, see if he could shag me.” I flush red at my flippancy. I’d never told anyone about the bet before, no one except for Holly and Scorpius. But now, after everything else that’s happened I don’t particularly care that Harvey was an idiot who tried to trick me into sleeping with him. That doesn’t even matter anymore, not now. We spend the rest of the hour talking like this. We never mention the Alpha, or what happened. We focus on my childhood, my first five years of school, and we focus on how it all was before. I suppose next time we can start talking about other things, and I’m okay with that.

“So, Rose?” Mum asks when I come out of the therapist’s office. I smile weakly at her, and I know she can tell I was crying.

“I think we should make an appointment with her again for next week.”

 

A month passes in the blink of an eye, and I suspect it’s because everyone is trying so hard to keep me busy. As soon as I wake up in the morning, I see Pokey the house elf has left me toast, a snack to take with me to the library. Madame Pince lets me in early so that I can work on all of the assignments I’ve missed. Then, I run to meet everyone in the Great Hall for a proper breakfast, and I bounce around from table to table, talking to all of my family, and friends. Then, I run to my classes and throw myself into the notes and assignments, determined to make up for my absence. After classes, I stay with the teachers on a rotating schedule so that I can practice the practical lessons they’d done: things like charms, spells, jinxes, and potions, things that can’t be learned properly from a book. Straight after this, I go to dinner, always bouncing around the tables. For the last few hours between curfew and bedtime, I linger in the Room of Requirement, practicing anything physical, anything to distract me. In a month, I’ve learned to sword fight, shoot a bow and arrow, play muggle football, and paint with watercolors. Scorpius, Holly and Amber take turns coming with me, sitting on a couch watching as I stab and jab, aim and shoot, dribble and kick, draw and paint. 

When it’s time to go to bed, I draw the curtains around my bed, never in bed before midnight, and put a silencing charm up. I’ve tried to fall asleep without Scorpius, sending him back to his dorm room, but I can’t fall asleep without him beside me. It’s stupid, and I hate how dependant I’ve become, but I don’t know how to change it. He doesn’t push anything, just gets under the covers and holds me close, entangling my body in his. I fall asleep matching my breathing with his, listening to his heartbeat. He sneaks out of the dorm in the early hours of the morning, and nobody's the wiser, well nobody except for Holly and Amber. 

I visit Dr. Hauser once a week, usually after dinner on Saturday. We still talk mostly about the past, and I think she’s waiting for me to be ready to talk about the Alpha, and everything else. Last week, we started to talk about me and Scorpius. It started when I told her about Roger, and what happened in first year, then I explained the whole “soulmate” thing. Our hour was up before we had a chance to start talking about what that means, but she told me to think about what I want it to mean.

I go back to the pack only twice in that month, one of those times being on the full moon. Amber and Taylor felt it was important that I be there, with them, to show them I was truly one of them. It was terrible, changing. It didn’t feel like shifting into my animagus; it was more painful, like my body was being melted down and reshaped, frozen in a new form. I felt like fire was flooding my veins. I don’t have many memories from that night, except for a lot of growling and fighting. I don’t want to do that again next month.

By the time I realize it’s my birthday, I’m already halfway through Transfiguration.

“It’s my birthday,” I whisper to Scorpius. He grins lazily at me. I know he’s overtired from our awkward sleeping arrangement; it leaves him with little time to sleep for himself, and I feel terrible.

“Happy birthday. You’re a legal adult.” He leans in and presses a swift kiss to my cheek and I suck in a sharp breath. I close my eyes, hoping to stop the flood of images, but of course that just makes them clearer.

“I’m sorry, Professor,” I interrupt, standing up. “I have to go to the Hospital Wing.” No one says anything as I run out of the classroom with no other explanation.

Scorpius finds me an hour later, impaling a practice dummy with my sword. Sword fighting is my new favorite thing. Terribly impractical in this day and age, but it takes a lot of energy and focus, and it helps to quiet my thoughts.

“You know,” he says softly, “the Auror Department has dummies that they use for training seminars that’ll fight back with you. You should see if you can get some to help you work on this.”

“I’m sorry for running out earlier,” I whisper, turning to face him. I leave my sword in the dummy and collapse on the couch next to him. We sit there until the growling of our stomachs is unbearable and we return to the Great Hall for lunch, hoping to catch the end, before plates clear themselves. Of course, I would not be so lucky.

“Rose, the Head has been looking for you!” Timmy squeaks, running up to me just as we enter the Great Hall. I moan, seeing the food still sitting on the tables. I want to go grab something quick, but Timmy adds, “he says it’s urgent.”

 

I’m met with a familiar sight when I enter the Headmaster’s office, and for a moment it takes my breath away. Aurors Smith and Jensen stand behind Flitwick’s desk. My parents and Uncle Harry are waiting, Mum and Dad sitting while Uncle Harry paces. When they see me and Scorpius enter, they converge on us. It reminds me of the meeting where we first learned about the Alpha, where this all began, and I don’t like that parallel.

“Rosie,” mum says, and I can see tears in her eyes.

“Miss Weasley, we have some information that we believe pertains to you,” Auror Jensen says immediately. I can feel my knees weaken, and immediately Scorpius grabs my elbows, steadying me.

“Rose,” Dad says.

“Tell me,” I whisper, before Dad speaks and I lose that one moment of bravery.

“There was a prophecy made about fifteen years ago. Sometimes, they’re made years before their events come to pass, and sometimes events never come to pass. Sometimes, they do but nobody ever connects it to a prophecy. Usually, we don’t figure these things out, but an Unspeakable came to us the other day with a prophecy he remembered. When we reviewed it, we understood why he brought it to us. We are giving you the option of hearing it,” Auror Jensen continues.

“Option?” I ask, my voice barely a whisper.

“Prophecies are dangerous. When people know the future, or think they do, they try to change it. Sometimes it’s best they don’t know, but you’re 17 now, so we have to offer you the option,” Auror Smith explains. I bite my lip.

“I… I think I need to hear it.” My parents start to interrupt, probably hoping to convince me otherwise, but I have to know, so I stop them. My confidence is wavering, and if they try to sway me, I may let them, and I’ll eventually regret it. “No, I need to know all the information I can. Please, show me,” I ask the Aurors. 

“You are absolutely certain? This kind of thing won’t be forgotten,” she warns me. I nod, regardless of the fact that I am in no way certain. “Alright, well, since only the subject of a prophecy can remove it, we could only bring a transcript.” She produces a small scrolls, clearing her throat. “ _ The lunar rise shall begin in her seventeenth year… begins as the seventh month wanes… marked at the beginning and the end… she solves the problem of old… the bane of wolf, the torture of man… to solve the problem she must start in the place where it all began… look to the history of the wells of gold… and find where their fates intertwined… the lunar rise shall begin in her seventeenth year… _ ” She recites. I run the words over and over in my head.

“What the hell does that mean?” I eventually shout.

“Sounds to me like next year will be interesting for you,” Auror Smith replies solemnly. 

I’m not so excited by my birthday this year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Th-th-th-th-that's all folks! Leave a comment if you liked it!


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